


The Beginning

by somebodywakeuphicks



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 1970s, F/M, Lots of Angst, New York City, No wonder Hopper feels his life is a black hole, Sara is a through and through daddy's girl, Some disturbing but brief violence, Warning: Emotional Abuse, Warning: Gun Violence, We need more Diane/Sara fanfics, sex but not porn, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 56,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodywakeuphicks/pseuds/somebodywakeuphicks
Summary: Prequel to Stranger Things Season 1This story follows Hopper's life post-high school, but mostly after meeting Diane. It deals with Hopper's parents' deaths, Vietnam, meeting and marrying Diane, Sara, the loss of Sara and and Hopper's marriage, and finally Hopper making his way back to Hawkins, a completely broken man.





	1. Here I Am, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the world needed more fanfics involving Diane and Sara, so here we are. As you well know, it ends tragically. 
> 
> I came up with a playlist to go along with each chapter I have planned. I was going to link to Spotify, but my husband pointed out that my RL friends would be able to find me that way, and I'm not ready for them to find my smut, lol. So, here's a list instead (posted in end notes). Each chapter also features lyrics from the songs.

**Spring 1970**

**New York City**

_Oo-wee babe you set my soul on fire_  
_That's why I know you are my only desire_  
_Oo baby, here I am, signed, sealed delivered, I'm yours_

_-Stevie Wonder_

 

For the first time in a long time, Jim Hopper didn’t question his vital status. He didn’t actually believe himself dead, but muted colors and the ever-growing hedge surrounding him raised frequent suspicion. If anything, he compared himself to the man in the tinfoil hat, not quite knowing what to believe about reality. When he walked through the doors of Harrison Elementary School, however, that all changed. At least, for a little while.

“What seems to be the problem?” Jim grunted as he walked into the school office. 

“Good afternoon, Officer,” the principal greeted him. “There’s been a bit of an altercation between two fifth graders, and—”

“What kind of altercation?” Jim glanced at his watch. “You know the NYPD has more important matters to attend to.”

“Of course, sir. But these boys got in a fight, and I believe one child’s nose is broken—”

“Have you called the parents?” Jim interrupted.

“Of course I have, and we will suspend both of them. But I want a police report just in case one or both parents decide to follow up legally.”

Jim sighed, squeezing he bridge of his nose. “Fine. Where are they?”

“Right this way.” The principal led Jim to his office where two bloodied boys and their teacher sat. 

“We’re sorry, sir. Don’t arrest us!” one boy begged. 

“I’m not—” Jim paused, reconsidering his tactic. “Yeah, you better be sorry. Because I had to haul my ass over here to deal with you two when I could be catching murderers on the street. So if someone gets murdered today because there’s one less cop out there—”

One boy started crying, and the other elbowed him, whispering, “Don’t cry, you baby.”

“Excuse me!”

Both boys straightened up. 

“I’m gonna file a police report like your principal asked, but I don’t _ever_ want to see your faces again. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” they both said in unison. 

Jim glanced up at their teacher. She sat, hands clasped together in her lap, fidgeting with the skirt of her navy dress. Probably uncomfortable. Jim had that effect on some people. She looked about his age, twenty-seven, give or take a couple years. Her curly, blonde hair fell past her shoulders, and Jim noticed the faint gray in her blue eyes as they darted up to meet his. He cleared his throat. “Mrs.—”

“Miss. Miss McAlister.”

“Miss McAlister, I’m sorry for all the trouble these boys have caused you. I’m sure it won’t happen again.” Jim shot the boys a look, and they nodded, wide-eyed. “I’ll just need you to tell me what you witnessed, and then you can go back to your class.”

The bell rang while Jim took down information. By the time he finished and talked to both boys’ parents, almost no one remained in the building. As Jim walked out to his cruiser, he drew in a breath, gritting his teeth. “ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered. Someone had slashed all four of his tires. 

At that same moment, Miss McAlister exited the building, heading to her car. She stopped when she saw Jim, noticing the tires. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Not good? Yeah, I’d say this is fucking terrible,” he shot back.

She laughed, the last thing he expected. “Okay, you’re right. You need help?” She walked over to stand beside him. 

“Miss McAlister, I highly doubt you could—”

“Diane.”

“Diane, I don’t know what you think you could do to help. I’ll have to get this towed.”

“I could at least give you a ride back to your station,” Diane said. “That way, you won’t have to wait around here. I know you’re a big cop and all, but it’s not exactly the safest place to loiter.”

“That’s nice, but but you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. It’s the least I could do for having you come deal with this today. I know you have better things to do.”

Jim chuckled. “Believe me, I do. But hey, it was kind of a nice break from dealing with muggings and arson and all that shit.”

“It’s gotten worse, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot worse,” Jim said. “Even since I’ve gotten here.”

They continued to talk as they got into Diane’s car. “How long have you been here?” she asked. 

“Three years. All the way from small town Indiana.”

“Oh, that’s…exciting.”

Jim snorted. “Actually, it’s not. How long have you been here?”

“My whole life,” Diane answered. “Since my great grandparents. My parents still live here. Well, off in the suburbs, now. City’s getting too dangerous, they said. What made you decide to move here?”

Jim stayed quiet for a moment, considering his response. “Um, well, I couldn’t think of anyplace better to disappear.” The silence grew uncomfortable as Jim tried to correct the situation. It’d been a long time since he’d really talked to someone. “Uh, turn here,” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all personal and shit.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“This is me,” Jim said as Diane pulled her car up to the police station. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. I enjoyed meeting you, Jim.” Diane smiled, her mouth crinkling at the corners. “Hey listen, if you wanna finish our conversation, I’m free tonight.”

Jim grinned, probably a little too eagerly. “Yeah, actually that sounds great.” 

“When do you get off?”

The two exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up at a bar close to where they lived. As it turned out, they didn't live far from each other at all. When Jim got off work at six, he rushed home to shower, shave, and change into a slim-fitting navy shirt and jeans. When he found he had a little extra time, he tidied up a bit, just in case. _She’s an elementary school teacher. She’s probably not going to want to—but maybe?_ he thought. Since he and his girlfriend of a year broke up six months prior, Jim’d had a few dates and hookups, but nothing that struck him as worth pursuing. But he felt drawn to Diane in a way that he hadn’t felt drawn to anyone in a long while.

When he met her at the bar, she had changed out of her teaching clothes and into a tight red sweater and flared jeans. “Long time, no see,” Jim joked, then regretted the cheesiness of it. She laughed. A good sign. They found a seat and ordered drinks. Jim offered Diane a cigarette, which she accepted. “So how is it that you’re a native New Yorker and so…”

“Friendly?” Diane asked.

“Yeah. One of the appealing parts of New York for me is that no one wants to know anyone else’s business. People leave me alone.”

She shrugged. “I dunno. When I’m teaching, I’ve gotta develop relationships with the kids if I want them to trust me. I suppose that carries over into my interactions with adults.”

“Makes sense,” Jim said.

“So how is it that you’re a tough-guy cop, handling the baddies all day long, but right now, you’re nervous?” Diane asked, her lips floating into a smirk.

Jim huffed, shifting in his seat. “Nervous? I don’t know where you get that.” 

“Mmhm, sure.” She smiled. “So what’s with the weird, indirect comments about wanting to hide and all that? You murder someone or something?” Diane’s eyes grew wide as she realized what she’d said. “Wait, maybe—never mind.”

Jim slumped forward a bit. “It’s okay. Yeah, I suppose I have.”

Diane reached her hand across the table, putting it on his arm. He’d been dead for so long that when she touched him, just that hint of a spark lit his body ablaze. “I’m sorry. You’re a cop. That was a stupid thing to say.”

“‘Nam.”

“Excuse me?”

“Vietnam,” Jim said. 

“ _Oh_. Of course.”

“That’s all I want to say about the matter.” 

“I understand.”

“No, you really don’t, but it is what it is.” They sat in silence for a minute before Jim spoke up again, this time a bit more strained. “So tell me about you.”

“Well, I told you I grew up in New York. I have an older brother and sister. They both live in the state, just not the city. I’m twenty-six. Teach fifth grade, and have been since I graduated from NYU. Um…broke up with my boyfriend of two years two months ago today, so I’m kinda looking to get my mind off of it, you know?”

“Yeah, I broke up with my girlfriend six months ago. We were together for a year.”

“Relationships, right?” Diane smiled.

“Yeah, right?” Jim grinned back. 

They sat and talked for another hour, mostly about their jobs, interests, and a little about growing up. Diane lamented that she was the last of her friends to get married, then shrugged her shoulders, saying, “Who needs it?” They were all pregnant and bored, anyway, not out in the workforce and having fun with handsome men. Jim frowned a little at her use of _men_ , but he admired her carefree attitude. 

Suddenly, Signed Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours came on over the sound system. “Oh, I like this song. Wanna dance?” Diane asked. 

“Now?” Jim asked, but Diane had already grabbed his hand and pulled him to an area cleared of tables where a few other people danced. She placed his hands on her hips and her own around his neck, guiding him along the dance floor. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one who leads?” He smirked.

“So lead.” She gazed up at him and bit her lip. He pressed his fingers into her lower back, urging her closer, their torsos flush against the other. He could feel her breasts press into him, sending a jolt of electricity to his groin. Jim leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, and she reciprocated, sliding her tongue into his mouth. 

“Wanna get out of here? I know a good Chinese place down the street from my apartment. We could get some to go…"

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Diane said. “I’ll follow you in my car.”

Not too long after, Jim and Diane sat on Jim’s couch, an assortment of Chinese food spread out on the table in front of them. “Wow, you really went all out,” Diane said.

“Yeah, this stuff is delicious. Try one of the egg rolls. The best.”

Diane picked one up and took a bite. She put her hand over her mouth and talked as she chewed. “Mm, you’re right. These are really good.”

The pair continued to talk as they ate. Jim couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this at ease with someone. His tense work environment left little room for friendship. He’d had a few when dating his former girlfriend, but they all left with her during the messy break up. Since then, he’d been on a few dates, but the effortlessness of which he could talk to Diane surprised him. 

After they finished eating, Diane followed Jim to his kitchen to help him put away the leftovers. As he opened the fridge, she came up behind him, placing a hand on his arm and a kiss to his shoulder. Jim turned around, exploring her sea mist eyes. She sucked in her lower lip and gave a slight nod, so Jim cupped her face and joined his lips to hers. Soon, Diane’s hands tangled through Jim’s blond hair as she kissed all over his freshly-shaven face. He reached his hand down to squeeze her ass, causing her to yelp. “I’m ticklish,” she said. 

“Are you now?” He did it again, and this time, Diane pressed even closer, rubbing against Jim’s quickly-growing erection. 

“Do you keep condoms here?” Diane asked.

Jim’s eyes widened. “Oh. So you wanna…”

Diane tilted her head, a smirk lifting the corners of her mouth. “Am I not being clear enough?”

“I mean, yeah, but you teach little kids, and—”

Diane looked around. “I don’t see any of my students here, do you?”

Hopper felt a little silly for bringing it up. “No, I guess not. And yeah, I’ve got condoms.” He groped her all the way to the bedroom, thanking the higher powers that he’d happened to wash his sheets the day before. He backed Diane onto the bed, hovering over her as she pulled his shirt over his head, then slid her hands up and down his chest. When he removed her sweater, he admired her athletic build before trailing kisses down her flat stomach. His breath caught when she unhooked her bra. Seeing breasts for the first time never got old, and Diane’s were little, but cute and perky. She wiggled out of her pants and underwear, and he sat up to admire the view. “Beautiful,” he murmured before hovering over her chest, bringing an erect nipple into his mouth. He noticed that her nipples were the exact same shade of pink as her lips, which amused him, for some reason. 

When he removed the last of his clothing, Diane hummed in appreciation and gripped his length to pull him toward her. Jim gritted his teeth until her wet mouth wrapped around his cock, a growl ripped from his throat. After a few playful bobs, Diane pulled away. “It’s a shame we’ve gotta cover it, but cover it, we must.” 

Jim grabbed the condom from his bedside drawer and, after rolling it on, positioned himself over her. He guided himself in slowly, and Diane gripped his ass, yanking him toward her. “Is that how you want it?” Jim asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely. Fuck me hard, Jim.” 

He didn’t need her to ask again. He thrust into her repeatedly, firm handle on her hips. Diane slipped her hand down to pleasure herself, catching Jim off guard, almost breaking the rhythm he’d found. He could count the number of women he’d slept with on both hands, but he’d never encountered anything like this. Diane knew what she wanted, and she would get it. Jim’s head swam and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. After a little while, his insides signaled impending explosion. _Not yet_ , he told himself. _No no no, not yet._ Of course, nothing listened. His body jolted, thrown into a torrent of endorphins as he gripped bruises into Diane’s hips. Holding out as long as he could didn’t come without reward, however, as Diane’s orgasm crashed down on her near the end of his. Her legs twitched as she let out several long moans before stilling. 

As they lay next to each other, Jim breathed out a sigh. “Damn, that was good.”

“Yeah, it was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

Jim side-eyed Diane. “ _Pretty_ good? Wow.”

“Do I gotta stroke your ego or something? Oh, Jim, you’re the best I’ve ever had. You’re a god in bed. I don’t know how I would find pleasure without you.” A ghost of a smirk appeared on her face before Jim realized she was teasing him. 

Jim crossed his arms, exaggerating a pout.

“Aw, poor baby!” Diane reached out to rub Jim’s arm. “Big, bad cop man is so sad.”

 _God,_ he wanted her again, but would his dick be up to the task this soon? He longed to show her who was boss, to hear from her lips that he was the best fuck she’d ever had. “You better be careful, or you’re going to get it again. And this time, I’ll have you so worked up, you’ll be begging.”

“Is that a promise?”

***

As the early dawn penetrated the curtains, Jim stirred, rolling over to see Diane up and getting dressed. “Hey,” he mumbled. “What’re you doing?”

“I really didn’t mean to fall asleep here. I guess a whole night of fucking will do that.”

Jim smiled. “It’s already five. Might as well stay for breakfast, at least.”

“Yeah, I don’t really—”

“Please?”

Diane sighed, then smiled. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”

Jim set a plate of eggs and toast in front of Diane before pouring a glass of orange juice. When he sat down with his plate, he smiled. “Maybe this’ll sound dumb, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this good. I had a lot of fun with you last night. Not just—you know, but all of it.”

“I had fun, too, Jim. I just—it’s been two months since my relationship ended. I didn’t tell you, but we were engaged. We both just kinda realized that we weren’t right for each other, you know? But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him. Still do love him.” Diane half-laughed. “I guess I should have chosen a slightly less charming man to sleep with.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “So I’m a rebound?” Deep down, he knew that was probably the case, but he deluded himself into thinking otherwise. 

“I’m sorry. I do like you.” Diane blew a puff of air. “Listen, I’ve got your number. I’ll call you sometime this week if I want to do this again. If I don’t call, it’s just that I’ve decided the timing’s not great. It’s not you. I just need some time to think. I didn’t expect to like this as much as I have.”

Jim took Diane’s hand, rubbing his thumb against her skin. “I really do hope you call, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”

“Thanks, Jim. I’ve gotta get going. I’m supposed to meet my sister later this morning. This was really nice.”

Jim walked her to the door and gave her a kiss goodbye. He had to show major restraint not to follow her out the door, but he knew that would pretty much ensure she didn’t call. He thought back to Claire, his ex, and the handful of dates since her. No one, not even Claire, made him feel the way Diane did. He needed her. Maybe she held the key to happiness that he so desperately longed for.

Jim moved through his week like nothing had changed, when in reality, he couldn’t stop thinking about _her_. He made arrests, responded to burglaries and shootings, had someone yell, “Pig!” and throw a brick at him, and stopped a group of nine-year-old boys from torturing a cat. Miserable, really. Day in, day out. 

On Friday, he left work at six, heading back to his apartment. As he walked inside and threw his keys on the table, the phone rang. He picked it up. “Hello?”

“Jim? It’s Diane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 1: Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours (Stevie Wonder)  
> Ch. 2: Goodbye Blue Sky (Pink Floyd)  
> Ch. 3: I'm Yours (Jason Mraz)  
> Ch. 4: Love Is Beginning (Imaginary Future)  
> Ch. 5: Say You Won't Let Go (James Arthur)  
> Ch. 6: Stay With Me Forever (Al Green)  
> Ch. 7: Build Me Up From Bones (Sarah Jarosz)  
> Ch. 8: Small Bump (Ed Sheeran)  
> Ch. 9: Real Love (Regina Spektor)  
> Ch. 10: You Are The Best Thing (Ray Lamontagne)  
> Ch. 11: Happy Together (The Turtles)  
> Ch. 12: Gracie (Ben Folds)  
> Ch. 13: How To Disappear Completely (Radiohead)  
> Ch. 14: Fix You (Coldplay)  
> Ch. 15: Joanne (Lady Gaga)  
> Ch. 16: Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) (Billy Joel)  
> Ch. 17: Autoclave (The Mountain Goats)  
> Ch. 18: Play Crack The Sky (Brand New)  
> Ch. 19: Find My Love (The Avett Brothers)  
> Ch. 20: Too Good At Goodbyes (Sam Smith)  
> Ch. 21: Hurt (Johnny Cash)  
> Ch. 22: Everything to Help You Sleep (Julien Baker)  
> Ch. 23: Hello (Adele)  
> Ch. 24: After the Storm (Mumford and Sons)


	2. Did You See The Frightened Ones?

**Fall 1964**

**Hawkins, IN**

_Did you see the frightened ones?_  
_Did you hear the falling bombs?_  
_The flames are all long gone, but the pain lingers on_

_Goodbye, blue sky_  
_Goodbye, blue sky_  
_Goodbye_  
_Goodbye_

_-Pink Floyd_

 

Jim stared at his mother’s rubber face. It wasn’t her. Couldn’t be. He blinked his tears away. If his father saw him crying, well…A hand clasped his shoulder. “It was the Lord’s time,” the voice said. Jim couldn’t even tell people apart, anymore. They flowed into and out of the funeral home like the waves crashed in and back out to sea. Their duty done, they returned to their normal lives the second they walked out the door. Only Jim couldn’t. Instead, he had to endure three hours of staring at a dummy of his mother and listening to people say shit about God and plans and how his mother had been a good, church-going woman at one point, so hopefully it was good enough to get her into heaven. 

Another hand rested gently on his shoulder. He whirled around, about ready to snap, but instead of another nameless face, Joyce stood in front of him. “Hey, Hop.” Her mouth twitched as she said it, her eyes filled with the empathy others lacked.

“Joyce—” Jim’s voice cracked as he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for coming. I really, really mean that.”

Joyce looked around. “Think anyone would notice if I stole you away for a few minutes?”

“I don’t know, but they can deal with it.” He followed Joyce to the lobby of the funeral home, finding a quiet spot in the corner with a couple flower-covered chairs. “I was about to scream at the next person who came up to me. Thanks for saving me.”

Joyce smiled, warming Jim. “It’s gonna be okay, Hop. When my mom died, things were rough. I mean, I was only four, but I still resented her a little bit for leaving me with my asshole of a father. But I made it through, and you will, too.”

Jim wanted to tell her all about how cold and distant his father had always been, about how afraid he was to be alone with the guy. His family had faked the smiles for outsiders all his life, so not even Joyce knew of the alcoholism and emotional abuse. His mother protected Jim and his older brother the best she could. He never questioned why she didn’t leave, knowing how challenging that would have been on several fronts. Why couldn’t his father have died from flu complications instead? He guessed Joyce had wondered the same thing about her own life many times.

“Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and offer my condolences. I know we haven’t seen much of each other in awhile—”

“You were my best friend freshman year. I still feel very fondly toward you,” Jim interrupted.

Joyce cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. 

“How’s Lonnie?” Jim asked. 

“Doing fine. Got a job at Happy’s Auto. I’ve been working at D-Licious Barbecue as a waitress. I suck at it, though.” She laughed, then held out her hand to show off a small diamond ring. “I’m engaged. Lonnie and I are getting married in the summer.”

Jim swallowed. “That’s great,” he lied. He could never stand the guy, seeing a lot of his father in him. 

“And you’re…going to school, right?” Joyce asked.

“Yeah. Well, sort of. I just finished police academy. Looking for a job.”

“Maybe the Hawkins PD would hire you.”

“I kinda wanna get out of town.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, of course you do. You’re so much better than this.”

“Now come on, I’m not making a judgement on you. This place is suffocating me. I can’t be here, anymore.”

“It’s okay, Hop. I’m not mad. You’re the kind of person who gets out. I’m the kind of person who stays put. It just is.”

Before Jim could respond, a shadow darkened their little corner. “Dad,” he choked. 

“Hi, Joyce. It’s nice seeing you here,” Jim’s dad said. 

“Thank you. I wish it could be in better circumstances,” Joyce said.

“Mhm, me too. I hope you don’t mind, but I have to steal Jim back.”

“Oh, of course not. I was just about to get going. I’m so sorry for your loss.” She gave both men a hug before turning and walking out the door. “Bye, Hop.”

Jim felt the grip on his shoulder tighten as his dad leaned in toward his ear. “Now is not the time to make an attempt at a fuck,” he said. 

“But I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it. Your mother would be so disappointed in you right now. Back to your post.”

The world faded into a haze once more as Jim took his spot next to his mother’s corpse. 

***

**Spring 1965**

Jim ducked his head as he walked past his father, sitting in front of the TV. He thought he’d snuck by undetected until his dad barked. “Jim! Get your ass over here!” Jim did as he was told. “You find a job, yet?”

“I have a job, Dad. Working at the grocery store.”

“And does that pay enough for you to move outta here so I don’t have to see your sorry face all day?”

“No,” Jim mumbled. “It’s only part time. But I’m trying. I’ve been applying, and not just around here.”

His dad took a swig of his beer. “Do you think I give a shit if you’re trying? Does trying get you out of my house or does finding an actual fucking job get you out of my house?”

It hadn’t always been this bad. The man went through phases, some better, some worse. The abuse he hurled at Jim this time around clearly related to his mother’s untimely death, but it cut so deep that it even caught Jim off guard a little bit. 

“You know what? You’re just a freeloader. You’re twenty-two, so get out of my goddamn house.”

Jim’s eyes widened as he stood, stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious.” 

Jim’s eyes watered, as much as he screamed the tears back inside. It only made it worse. 

“You crying? You a homosexual now, or somethin’? Men don’t cry. You must not be a man.”

“Shut up,” Hopper mumbled.

“What’d you just say to me?”

“I said _shut the fuck up_. I’ve had it. What you put me through. What you put Rich through. Why do you think he doesn’t speak to any of us? And don’t even get me started on what you put Mom through. Mom was strong, so much stronger than you’ll ever be. I know she would’ve gotten out if she thought she could. You’re just a manipulative, lying, alcoholic piece of shit, and I’m done. You may have fooled the rest of the town, but you never fooled me.”

As Jim talked, his dad’s face grew redder and redder, and although the man had never hit him, it wouldn’t surprise Jim if he did then. Instead, a sound like a strangled animal escaped his throat. “Get out. Don’t ever come back. I don’t want to see your face ever again, you hear me?”

Jim sucked in a breath, but remained unwavering. He turned to go pack a bag.

“No. You’re leaving _now_. I paid for everything in this house, so you’re not taking _any_ of it.”

Jim knew that wasn’t true, but he figured he could find a way to get his stuff later. Jim turned toward the door to walk out, and before his dad could stop him, he swiped a framed 5x7 off of the piano and ran out the door. 

“Hey! Don’t you fucking leave with that!” his dad shouted, but Jim had already gotten into his car and turned the key, peeling out of the driveway. 

At this point, the tears began to flow. Jim couldn’t turn them off, so he pulled over to the side of the road, slamming his fists into the steering wheel several times before collapsing on top of it. His eyes caught sight of the photo sitting in the passenger seat. In it, Jim stood outside next to his mother. He was about five years old at the time. She had one arm wrapped around Jim as he beamed for the camera.  

Jim closed his eyes to keep the world from spinning. 

***

Jim knocked on Benny’s door, but no one answered. Just as he turned to walk away, the door cracked open. “Jim?”

“Hey, Benny. Can I come in?” Benny opened the door further and backed up, letting Jim into his trailer. He slumped onto the couch, head in his hands. 

“What’s wrong?” Benny asked.

Jim wasn’t sure how to explain his predicament to someone with no knowledge of his family mess. “Uh, my dad and I got in a fight, and he kicked me out.”

“Your dad, really? Well, I mean, you can stay here if you want, for a little while, until you patch it up or whatever. I’m leaving in two weeks, though.”

“Oh, yeah? Where you off to?” Jim asked.

“Tom and I enlisted. We’re going to Vietnam.”

Jim had considered this for awhile as military involvement in Vietnam increased. With his police training and experience hunting, he’d probably be good at it. Still, there was something unsettling about the whole idea. Hunting animals and defending citizens was one thing, and killing people in a country he’d never heard of was another. On the other hand, he understood the threat of communism not only to the United States, but to the world, and Benny didn’t hold back on his argument of that fact. 

Benny Hammond and Tom White had been good friends of his for several years. Both played football with him in high school, only Benny quit sophomore year, saying it wasn’t for him. Since graduating four years prior, both men worked for Benny’s dad at his restaurant. Benny hoped to take it over one day after his dad retired. He’d recently proposed to his girl of one year, and Tom had a wife with a baby on the way. 

That night, Jim tossed and turned, pondering over Vietnam. Perhaps completing a two-year stint would grant him access to a police job somewhere other than Hawkins, and if he were honest, _James Hopper: United States Hero_ had a nice ring to it. Maybe it would even give his dad some form of pride, although that thought caused Jim mixed feelings. The man had fought in World War II, leaving his pregnant wife and not returning until after Jim’s birth. Rich used to recall the days when their father barely drank and never yelled. Jim couldn’t remember anything else. 

A week later, Jim stood in line at the closest recruitment center. As he stepped up to the counter, his legs shook, but he pushed the feeling away.

“Can I help you?” the man at the counter asked.

“Yes. I’d like to enlist in the Army.”

Jim didn’t know it then, but it would be the biggest regret of his life.

***

**Winter 1967**

**South Vietnam**

Jim trudged through the boonies of South Vietnam with his platoon, pursuing the Viet Cong. His two years were almost up, and although many of the men he served with seemed almost giddy about the goings on around them, Jim couldn’t help but feel sick to his stomach. He’d seen enough questionable actions, enough death. 

He turned to Benny and Tom as they walked away from a hut ablaze, suspected of being enemy property. “After our time is up, you planning on staying home or doing another tour?”

Benny shifted the rifle on his shoulder and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. He offered two to his comrades. “Probably staying home. This whole thing is one giant cluster fuck. I thought I’d be doing something good, but I feel like I’m running in damn circles. Don’t ever know who’s winning or losing.”

“I miss my wife. Can’t wait to meet my girl,” Tom said. His daughter was over one-year-old by that point. “I don’t think I can leave her after going back.”

The air hung so thick and the tangle of foliation so dense, the men didn’t see the storm clouds roll in. 

A little while later, the three realized they’d fallen behind the rest of the group. The jungle grew dark as the leaves rustled with the patter of rain. Thunder cracked in the distance, and again, closer. Then out of nowhere, a figure appeared in front of them. Startled, Jim yelped before realizing the woman wasn’t armed. He approached her cautiously, because sometimes they had difficulty distinguishing between civilians and the Viet Cong. They didn’t have an interpreter with them, but Jim held up his hands to show that he wasn’t going to hurt her. Once he got closer, he noticed the round belly, carrying life. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“She can’t understand you,” Tom said.

“I know, but maybe we can communicate somehow.”

The woman began speaking quickly in Vietnamese, and Jim was at a loss. 

“It’s okay. We can help you,” he said. “If you come with us,” he motioned with his hands, “we will find an interpreter.”

Several shots rang out, and Jim fell to the muddy earth. Benny and Tom weren’t far behind. Jim tugged the woman’s arm, urging her to the jungle floor. Benny pointed his rifle toward the brush, firing into the dark, and Tom aimed his gun, rotating, looking for the enemy. 

Suddenly, several members of their platoon came crashing through the jungle back toward them. Shots fired in all directions, some from the Americans, some from the Viet Cong hiding in the mass of vegetation. 

It all happened in slow motion. Tom stood up, aiming his rifle in the direction of fire. A loud clap of thunder masked the sound of bullets as they tore through Tom’s chest. His mouth cracked open, eyes blown, as he slumped to his knees, falling to the ground. Jim screamed, or thought he did, but he couldn’t hear himself over the commotion. 

A soldier nicknamed Moose stumbled over, and without a word, emptied six rounds into the Vietnamese woman Jim crouched with. He caught her body, feeling the dead weight, scanning her lifeless black eyes, shaking her back to life. “God, no! This isn’t happening!” His eyes flashed to Benny, busy performing mouth to mouth on Tom while another soldier fashioned a tourniquet to his belly. Jim knew it was too late. Tom was dead. The woman was dead. Jim bared his teeth, chest heaving, staring Moose down, but the man had moved on. Jim tore himself away from the woman as he jumped up and lunged for Moose, shoving him as hard as he could. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Spittle flew from his mouth as he raged. “That was a civilian! Not Co Cong! A fucking civilian!”

“How should I have known? They’re all the same, anyway.”

“You fucking piece of shit!” Jim lunged at him again, but a couple soldiers grabbed him and held him back as he screamed. Jim stopped fighting their hold and turned back to the woman, lifeless on the ground. He knew what he had to do. Rushing to her, he checked her over for wounds. None of the bullets had punctured her belly. He pulled out his fixed blade, hesitating before plunging it into her abdomen. Benny gawked at him, and Jim knew he must’ve appeared fucking nuts. He continued to work as the heavy rain washed away the blood, and finally, after what seemed an eternity, he heard a little cry. He pulled the infant out of his mother’s open womb, cutting the cord and placing him inside his shirt. After awhile, the firing died down, and the lieutenant counted bodies. Forty-three VC and seven Americans. 

Jim’s insides boiled as the smaller group of men continued on through the jungle. They’d walk most of the night and find a place to sleep during the day. He glanced down, pulling his shirt away from him to peek at the bundle he carried. The boy appeared pre-term, and Jim didn’t know how long he had. He didn’t have milk. Didn’t have enough warmth. At that moment, the baby seemed to be doing okay, wriggling against his bare skin, faintly mewling, so Jim walked. He walked until his feet grew numb. Every so often, he checked on the infant, and as time passed, his squirms and little movements slowed. Eventually, Jim didn’t feel him move at all. Three hours after his birth, the boy passed quietly in Jim’s arms. He continued to walk with him for another hour, until the rain died down and the platoon took a break. 

Jim slumped to the mud, throwing his head back against a small tree. Should he name the boy? He deserved a name, deserved to be recognized as someone that mattered, even if only for three hours, and even if only by him. In the end, Jim couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would confirm his complicity in everything that took place over the last five hours, brand the memory so deep into his brain that he’d have no way of pushing it down. He lowered the still body into the brush, placing leaves and twigs over him. At that, he finally wept. 

The next morning, as much of the platoon slept, Jim lied on his back, wide awake. Benny scooted over next to him, also unable to sleep. His disclosure, barely a whisper, threw Jim for a loop. “They’ve declared last night’s mission a success.”

Jim said nothing. His whole body burned, and for once, he didn’t push it away. He allowed the anger, the rage to build up within him. This was the last straw. He had to get out. 

**Spring 1967**

**New York City**

Stepping off the plane in New York City, Jim didn’t know what to expect. He had no desire to go back to Hawkins with Benny. He couldn’t face Tom’s family. Not after what happened. He’d heard his father had been in and out of the hospital, his liver beginning to fail, the years of heavy drinking catching up with him. Jim couldn’t bring himself to care. New York seemed like the best place for someone like him. Someone who wished to remain anonymous. He’d landed an interview with the NYPD and figured that, with his training and experience, he’d be a shoo-in. 

As Jim pushed through the airport doors and onto the city streets, he emerged a new man. He resolved not to speak a word of what happened in Vietnam. Not with Benny. Not with anyone. _Best to bury it_ , he concluded. Jim kept that promise for close to twenty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched Vietnam for awhile, so hopefully I got the tone somewhat down.
> 
> I am super sick with the flu. I feel like I'm practically dead, and I'm bored out of my mind. Comments would be lovely.


	3. This Is Our Fate

_So I won't hesitate no more, no more_   
_It cannot wait I'm sure_   
_There's no need to complicate_   
_Our time is short_   
_This is our fate, I'm yours_

_-Jason Mraz_

 

Jim raced down the sidewalk, chest heaving, legs moving in mechanical motion. When he reached the stop sign at the far end of the walkway, he tagged it and stopped, bent over, breathing heavily.

Diane caught up to him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Racing you.” Jim grinned.

“Generally, when two people race, both are aware of it.”

Jim wrapped his arm around Diane’s shoulder as they continued to walk. Since becoming official two weeks before, Diane had convinced Jim to start running with her. “No one runs,” he’d argued. “We’ll look like a couple of lunatics sprinting through the streets of New York.”

“We’ll blend in quite nicely, then, don’t you think?” Diane had joked.

He finally relented, figuring it would help him stay in shape for his job. “Admit it, you just wanted me to start jogging with you, because you’re too nervous to do it by yourself,” Jim said.

“That’s not untrue, but what’s even truer is that my running partner has gone off and gotten herself pregnant, so she can’t run with me, anymore. I had to settle for you.”

“Settle, huh? I’m faster than you. I beat you in that race.”

“A race I didn’t even know was happening.” Diane smirked, and Jim kissed her forehead. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” he teased.

“So’re you. I dunno, though. There’s something kinda sexy about it.” Her eyes trailed over Jim’s tank top and shorts. 

“Stop it. You’re gonna get me in trouble. These shorts don’t leave much to the imagination. I have nowhere to hide.”

Diane smirked. “I know.”

“Do you think I should grow a mustache?” Jim asked.

Diane snorted. “I dunno. If you want? Could be sexy.”

As they rounded the corner, neither of them saw the man hiding in the shadows, and by the time they did, it was too late. He leapt out, grabbing Diane around the neck as he placed a knife to her throat. “Money. Now.”

Diane cried out as Jim held his hands up. “We’ll do whatever you say. Just please don’t hurt her. I’m gonna reach into my pocket and get my wallet, m’kay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up,” the man said. 

Jim stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, and handed it over.

“Your turn,” the man said to Diane.

“I—I—”

“She doesn’t have anything,” Jim explained. “There’s plenty of money in my wallet. Just go, before someone alerts the police.”

The man nodded, removing the blade from Diane’s throat, and began walking down the street as if nothing happened. At that, Jim darted toward him and tackled him to the ground as Diane screamed. Jim punched the guy in the back of the head a couple times before trying to wrestle the knife from his hand, but the mugger managed to get a swift slice to Jim’s palm. Jim punched him once more, this time in the face, sending his head back into the pavement as he blacked out. Breathing heavily, Jim picked up the weapon and looked back toward Diane as she stared at him wide-eyed, hands over her mouth. He stumbled back over to her, and she threw her arms around him, sobbing. 

After the police arrested the man who’d mugged them, Jim and Diane ended up back at Jim’s apartment. They squeezed themselves into his tiny bathroom as Diane cleaned Jim’s wound and wrapped gauze around it. Her hand lingered on his, and she peered up into his eyes. “That was so stupid,” she said. “You could’ve gotten really hurt.”

Jim sighed. “I know. I couldn’t let him get away after doing that to you.”

Diane glanced down briefly before resuming eye contact. “Well, even though that was an incredibly stupid thing to do, I also found it…kinda sexy.”

“Gotta do what I can to protect my girl.”

“You mean show off for your girl.” Diane laughed, then stretched. “Oh, I’m tired. I think I need to lie down. Probably in your bed, since I’m too tired to make it home to my own. And probably naked, since I definitely can’t sleep in sweaty clothes.” She swung her hips just slightly as she sauntered out of the bathroom. 

“You keep your sweaty self off my clean sheets,” Jim growled, chasing a shrieking Diane into the bedroom.


	4. Something Worth Living For

_So let's start carving our own path_   
_One day it will become a road_   
_We'll drive down to the countryside_   
_Oh, look how the colors are changing_   
_New stars appear in the night sky_   
_This heart is starting to come to life_

_Oh my love, love is beginning_   
_We have found something worth living for_   
_I've got my head in the clouds_   
_Oh my love, love is beginning now_

_-Imaginary Future_

 

Jim rang the buzzer to Diane’s apartment. A few seconds later, the door unlocked, and he headed up the stairs. She’d left her door open, and when he got inside, he found Diane, sitting on her couch, hands clasped together, staring at her lap. It didn’t register as he launched into his day. “You won’t believe what happened—actually, you probably will. Huge riot between protestors and construction workers. I’m glad you were in school.”

“Oh, yeah?” Diane said, no hint of surprise in her voice.

“Did you already hear about it?” Jim asked, thinking maybe she’d heard something from her co-workers. 

Diane avoided the question. “Were you there?”

“Yeah, of course I was. It was a mess.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me, too.” Jim paused, finally noticing something amiss. “You never answered my question. Were the teachers talking about it at school?”

Diane looked up at him. “I didn’t go to school today.”

“What do you mean you didn’t go to school? Where were you?”

Diane paused, eyes darting away again. “I was there.”

“There? Wait—”

“Yes, Jim, I was at the protest.”

“Goddamn it! Why?”

“I didn’t know it would turn violent. I wasn’t hurt. It’s just that I see how much Vietnam affected you and—”

“ _No!_ ”

Diane flinched. “Jim, I—”

Jim’s nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. He tightened his fists, biting down on a knuckle before speaking again. “Don’t…bring…up…Vietnam. You have _no_ fucking right to protest on behalf of me. _None!_ ”

“Okay. I’m sorry,” Diane whispered.

Jim smashed his fist into the wall before heading out the door, slamming it behind him. 

Back at his apartment, Jim paced the living room. _What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I do that to her?_ He cared about Diane so much, and it occurred to him that she might not want to see him anymore. After all, they’d only been dating two months. What was in it for her to stay after he’d treated her that way?

Jim decided he had to go back and apologize profusely, but just as he reached the door, a knock sounded from the other side. He opened it, finding Diane, arms crossed over her body, eyes meeting his. 

“Diane.”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Jim closed the door behind her, then followed her to the couch. 

“Listen—”

“No, before you say anything, I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that,” Jim said. 

Diane nodded slightly, then continued. “I like you a lot, okay? And I get that you went through some shit. Shit that really hurt you, and I know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine. But please don’t take it out on me. I only did what I did because I care about you, and I think whatever happened to do this to you really stinks, and _that’s_ why I went to the protest—”

Jim interrupted her by kissing her, but she pushed him away. 

“Jim, let me finish, alright? I made a mistake. I should have asked you first. And I will give you space to deal with this stuff, but you’ve gotta talk to me eventually. That’s all I ask. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jim answered. 

“Mind if I stay over tonight? I feel like we could use a little time together.”

Jim wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah, of course.”

Later that evening, Diane snuggled up next to Jim in bed. “I know it hasn’t been that long, but I have a good feeling about this. Like it’s going to be something special.”

Jim turned to Diane. “Me, too. I only reacted the way I did earlier because the thought of you getting hurt—I’ve had enough people in my life get hurt, and I can’t take one more.”

Diane put her hand on Jim’s shoulder.

He took a deep breath. “There is something I’ve never told anyone. About my childhood. My dad…he’s not a good person. He makes sure everyone thinks he is. But he’s maybe the most dangerous kind of person for that reason.” Jim launched into his childhood with his dad, mom, and brother. About how, all his life, Jim’s dad had been emotionally abusive. About how his brother left the second he turned eighteen and cut everyone out of his life. About how, when his mom died, it triggered his dad’s rage and subsequent disowning of Jim. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m cursed and that, somehow, I hurt the people closest to me. Most of all, I’m afraid I’m destined to be just like my dad. What happened earlier didn’t help quell those thoughts at all.”

Diane’s eyes flitted back and forth, exploring Jim’s as she held his face. She brought her lips to his, kissing him gently, then with increasing urgency as she climbed on top of him.

Jim broke his mouth away. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

“That’s the most open you’ve been with me about anything, Jim. And I don’t know your dad, but I’ve known people like him, and you are not like him. You’re a good man. I know that.” She kissed him again, and he kissed her back, pulling her in close so that she could feel how much he needed her in that moment. She moaned against his neck. “Jim, fuck me.”

An hour later, as Jim began drifting off to sleep with Diane in his arms, he pressed kisses to her hair, murmuring things that only half made sense. “Your beautiful curls. Beautiful you. Love your soft skin. Love you.” Diane breathed out a small gasp and shifted, increasing Hopper’s alertness slightly. “Hm?” he asked.

“What did you just say?”

“I dunno. Something about your curls?”

“Not that. The last thing.”

“Love you-r…something?”

“You said _love you_.”

Jim opened his eyes and sat up a bit. “I didn’t, did I?”

“Oh, you did.”

“Oops.”

“Oops? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Uhhh…”

“Jim!”

“What?”

“It’s only been two months!”

“Listen, I have no control over what I say when I’m half asleep,” Jim argued. 

“Is it true?” Diane asked.

“Huh?”

“That you love me!”

“Oh. Did I say that?”

Diane pounced on Jim, shaking his shoulders. “Jiiim!”

“Fine, fine. Uh, yes?”

Diane moved back over to her spot in bed. “Okay. I love you, too, then.”

“Wait, what?” That’s not what Jim expected. Hell, he didn’t ever know what to expect from Diane.  

She shrugged. “I mean, we have been spending just about every day together. What’s not to know?”

“Then why the hell were you freaking out over it, woman?”

Diane just smirked. “I like playing with you.”


	5. Until We're Grey and Old

_**Spring 1971** _

_When you looked over your shoulder_  
_For a minute, I forget that I'm older_  
_I wanna dance with you right now_  
_Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever_  
_And I swear that everyday'll get better_  
_You make me feel this way somehow_

 _-James Arthur_  

 

Jim fidgeted with the ring inside his pocket as he walked with Diane around a lake at a state park. They’d traveled the hour outside the city a handful of times to hike, bike, and camp. Jim even taught Diane how to fish and paddle a canoe, two things she’d never done before meeting him. At this moment, the couple celebrated the end of Diane’s school year. 

Two months earlier, Jim had found himself doubled over with Diane, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He couldn’t even remember what was so funny, but in that moment, he knew he had to marry her. As he fingered the ring, continuing his trek around the lake, he felt as sure as ever, but his heart thumped and his body shook. They’d only been dating a year, and Diane’s former boyfriend proposed after nearly two years. _What if she says yes, but changes her mind? What if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about her?_ His mind raced down the rabbit hole. One thing he definitely knew—Besides his mother, there were only two women in Jim’s life who ever really got him. He wouldn’t let this one get away. 

“Oh, look! Loons!” Diane pointed toward the lake. “I’ve never seen them before. They’re so beautiful.”

“Yep. Beautiful,” Jim said, but he wasn’t looking at the loons. 

Diane didn’t notice until Jim was on one knee, his hand held out and shaking so hard, he thought he might drop the ring. Her eyes grew wide, but she said nothing. 

“Uh, Diane…” Jim started. “I, uh, I love you a lot. Will you marry me?” 

Diane laughed and pulled him up, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. “Well that was to the point. Yes, I’ll marry you!” Jim beamed, sliding the gold band with a pear-shaped diamond on Diane’s finger. She held it out and admired it. “Why are you shaking so bad?”

Jim cleared his throat. “Nervous.”

“Hon, you should’ve known I would say yes.”

“I, uh, wasn’t sure with, you know, you having been engaged before. Thought it might be too soon.”

“No, this is perfect. When you know, you know. That was part of the problem before. All the waffling and stalling. If you’re that unsure, why go through with it?”

Jim nodded, his heartbeat slowing. “Good. I mean, I’m so glad you said yes. I think we should make this a tradition. Coming out here. We could even come camping here with our kids—”

“Our kids?” Diane asked.

“Uh, yeah, I thought—Didn’t we talk about this? You said—”

“Jim, I’m teasing you,” Diane said, patting his chest. “I can’t wait to have babies with you.”

Jim’s heart stuttered, and he leaned in, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to hers. 

Back at camp, Jim and Diane found themselves in their tent, half clothed, hands running over bare skin. Jim trailed his lips down Diane’s neck and to her cleavage, sliding her bra straps down her arms. He was so hard, it hurt. He grabbed her ass, pulling her in toward him. 

She moaned, taking his earlobe in her mouth. 

“So when d’ya wanna get married?” Jim asked, kissing a nipple he’d just freed. “Tomorrow?” He licked her. “The next day?”

Diane pulled his head to her chest, fluttering her fingers through his hair. “ _Oh_ …um, that could be fun. But my parents want a traditional wedding, so it’ll probably be closer to a year.”

“I figured.” Jim unhooked and removed her bra, making his way down her stomach. 

Jim first had sex at sixteen, and although he wouldn’t have considered himself bad at it, he’d learned a lot in the twelve years since. Diane, in particular, had schooled him well. He’d gotten fairly confident in his abilities, too confident, but no one had ever suggested that he might not be as incredible in bed as he thought. Until Diane. He found her body a challenge from the get go, a puzzle to solve. She had a confidence most other women didn’t have, and she knew what she liked, and Jim was determined to learn her body and to discover new ways to excite her. With Diane, he learned that nothing got him off harder than fully pleasing a woman. It was an ego trip. 

Suddenly, he flipped her over so that she lay on top of him. “C’mere.” He pawed at her thighs, attempting to move her closer to his face.

“What’re you doing? I’m sure I smell bad right now!”

“Does it look like I care?” Jim asked. Diane relented, and Jim pulled her in, rubbing his face along her inner thigh, kissing her there. She braced her hands against his shoulders as she lowered herself onto his face, thrusting herself against him. Jim moaned into her as he worked his tongue just the way he knew she liked. 

They heard voices approach outside the tent before fading away. “God, this is so hot,” Diane said. Jim just grunted in response. Soon, Diane’s thighs shook around his head as she neared her peak. “Right. There. Fuck, don’t stop. Oh, Jim. Oh—” She reached her hand out to support herself on what would normally be the headboard or wall, but instead, her fingers met canvas, and she toppled forward, smashing herself against Jim’s face and tumbling into the side of the tent, bringing it half-down with her. 

“Oh, fuck!” Jim clutched his nose, groaning while Diane felt around blindly, trying to free herself and right the tent. 

The heard a slow clap outside. 

“Oh my god, I’m going to die,” Diane said, finally freeing herself and burying her face in Jim’s chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He peeked over at her, a grin forming on his face. “This’ll be a fun story to remember.”

“Yeah, if I don’t die of embarrassment first. I’m never leaving this tent.”

Jim wrapped his arm around her. “That’s okay. I don’t mind being here awhile.”


	6. Stay With Me Forever

**Summer 1972**  

_Please take my love, that's all I have to give_  
_Just right now you're giving me a reason to live_  
_Help me understand what I feel is real_  
_For no love has meant this much to me_  
_In the past couple of years_  

_And if you let me there is nothing I wouldn't do for you_  
_And if you trust me with your love_  
_Then I will make your dreams come true_

  _So baby, please, please, won't you stay with me forever?_

_I just want you to stay a while with me, baby_  
_Please, please, won't you stay with me forever?_  
_C'mon and stay_  

_-Al Green_

 

Pachebel’s Canon floated through the church on organ as Diane stepped down the aisle in a long-sleeved lace gown, her arm through her father’s. Her veil hung around her blonde curls as she gazed at Jim, eyes smiling. His emotions mirrored hers as he clasped his fingers together tightly. _God, she’s so beautiful. I can’t believe this is happening._

Benny stood by Jim’s side, along with Diane’s brother, Peter, and Jim’s closest co-worker, Bill. Two of Diane’s friends and her sister, Julie, stood up for her. 

As Diane’s father kissed her cheek and gave her away, Diane walked over to stand next to Jim. She squeezed his hand, leaning in to whisper. “You ready for this?”

“More than ever.”

They stood through the short homily, exchanged vows, and shared the lighting of the candle. As Jim slid the ring on to Diane’s finger and she did the same for him, he noticed the tears in her eyes. He squeezed her hand as they were pronounced man and wife and cupped her face, passionately kissing her as she threw her arms around his shoulders. A few cheers erupted from the audience. 

At the reception, the newly married couple danced close, unable to take their eyes off the other. Jim had been waiting for a whole year, and if it were up to him, he’d have eloped, but Diane wanted to have a real wedding, which Jim understood. It was nice having most of their friends there, and he hadn’t seen Benny since coming home from Vietnam. 

Jim leaned in close to Diane’s ear. “How long do you think it’ll be before we can get all these people outta here?”

“Hey! We haven’t seen some of these people in years! You get to see me naked most days.” Diane smirked.

Jim feigned offense. “Who says that’s what I’m after?”

Diane raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side.

“What? I just want to go home to our nice, new apartment and our nice, new bed.”

Diane laughed. “If my mom knew we’d already been sleeping there for three weeks, she’d kill me. Or probably you.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Mhm.” Diane rested her head on Jim’s shoulder as they continued to move to the music. 

The couple finally made it home around midnight. Diane kicked her shoes off and slipped out of her gown, draping it on a side chair. After exiting the bathroom, she crawled in bed next to Jim, resting her head on his chest. “I’m too tired, hon.”

“I didn’t say anything. I am, too.” He closed his eyes, feeling the rise and fall of Diane’s chest against him. 

“Jim?”

“Hm?”

“When do you want to…you know, have a baby?”

Hopper groaned a little. “Can we talk about it after the honeymoon?”

“Yeah, but I was just at my doctor, and he said that most women have their first baby at around twenty-two and that if I wait too long—”

“Did you tell him to fuck off?”

“Jim!”

“You used to complain about all your friends’ pregnancies.” He kissed Diane’s forehead, massaging her scalp with one hand. “I would love to talk more about this, but later. I am about ready to pass out.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, I love you, Diane Hopper.”

“I love you, too, James Hopper.”


	7. Build Me Up From Bones

**Winter 1973**

The _night's so dark and grey_  
_But you've helped me find my way_  
_Through the wild and wonders of this world_

_So take me with you now_  
_I need to show you how_  
_I can love you better than before_

  _-Sarah Jarosz_

 

Jim took a swig of his beer as he examined his cards. He and Diane were at their friend, Bill’s home for a night of socializing, something Jim hadn’t really wanted to do in the first place, but Diane convinced him it could be fun. He wished he’d made up some sort of excuse to get out of it.  

He sat at the dining room table with Bill and three of Bill’s friends while all of their wives stood around the kitchen, drinking and talking. 

Suddenly, Jim felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he turned around, he found Diane. “How’s the game going?” she asked.

“Terrible. I’m losing.”

“Why don’t you take a little break?”

“Okay, boys. I’m out,” Jim said, throwing his cards on the table. The other men groaned. 

“Gonna go hang out with the women in the kitchen?” one of Bill’s friends joked.

“Seeing as I’ll be getting more action in there than I am playing this game, yeah.”

Instead of heading to the kitchen, Diane took Jim’s hand and led him around the corner to a darkened hallway. “You were right. This is boring. I’ve heard enough about jello molds and casserole recipes to kill me. I’ve just been standing there, nodding a lot.”

“You could probably learn a thing or two,” Jim said, cocking a smile. 

“Yeah, yeah. Not from those mush-for-brains. How can their husbands stand it?”

“Hm, well, I don’t know. They come home to a dressed up wife, clean house, kids in line, warm dinner on the table…”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want that, too.”

“Nah, not when I have you.” He grabbed Diane around the waist, pulling her in. “Mrs. Speak-Her-Mind Independent. Much more interesting. Very likely better in bed.” He wagged his eyebrows.

“Jim!” Diane said, smacking his arm before glancing over her shoulder. “You know…”

“Uh oh. What’s that head of yours planning?”

“Well, Dr. Redford said that the best time to conceive is after…um, after your bleeding, and mine just ended yesterday—”

Jim grimaced slightly. “That’s good to know. So you wanna go home, then?”

“We only got here an hour ago. That would be rude.”

“So…”

Diane glanced toward the bathroom. “In there.”

Jim sucked in a sharp breath. “Really?”

Diane nodded, stifling a giggle. 

Jim looked back around the corner before pushing Diane into the bathroom and shutting the door. He worked quickly at his belt buckle while Diane slid her underwear down her legs. 

“The skirt makes this a lot easier,” Jim said, lifting her onto the counter before positioning himself and entering her. She gripped his bare ass, the only skin uncovered, as he worked toward fulfilling his duty. If someone knocked, they’d be caught. Diane whispered dirty things into his ear, and that did the trick. He groaned against her neck, then stilled, panting and waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He lifted his head and explored Diane’s eyes, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “No turning back now, huh?”

She smiled. “No, I guess not.”

They exited the bathroom without anyone noticing, joining their respective groups. Before long, the card game ended and everyone found their way together, sipping beer, smoking, and talking. 

“So Diane, you’re a schoolteacher, right?” Bill asked. 

“Yeah. Fifth grade.”

“My mom was a teacher before she married my dad. She was always teaching my siblings and me this or that. I grew up really respecting that line of work.”

“Well, thank you. That means a lot. Not everyone is as kind as you. Most people think I’m a sweet, little thing and don’t pay any attention to what I’m doing. As long as the machine is chugging along, no reason to talk about it.”

“Feel the same way about policing. No one cares until we’re not there.”

“Ain’t it the truth.” Diane laughed. “Did you know Jim and I met at my school? A little over two years ago. He came in to deal with some unruly students. He was so handsome, I just had to ask him out.” She smiled at Jim. 

“Oh, well that’s different,” one of Bill’s friends said.

“How do you mean?” Diane asked.

“You asking him out instead of the other way around.”

Diane shifted in irritation. “Yeah, well, the times they are a-changin’.” The group stared at her, silent. “Bob Dylan?”

“I know Bob Dylan,” Bill said. 

Catherine, Bill’s wife, chimed in. “Is that the song that goes _Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer_? I know that song.”

“Uh, no…”

Catherine waved her hand. “Anyway, you’re going to quit teaching when you get pregnant though, right?”

“No,” Diane said at the very same time Jim said, “Yes.” 

She turned to him. “What?”

“I just assumed—”

Diane stared at Jim and blinked several times. Her shoulders slipped, and her lips fell into a frown. 

Jim leaned in toward Diane, his lips against her hair. “I—I didn’t know. Can we talk about this?”

“Not now.” She stood up straight, plastering a smile to her lips. “So where’s that fondue I’ve been promised?”

Later that evening, Jim followed Diane into their apartment, shutting the door behind him. She whirled around to face him. “Why would you just assume I wouldn’t want to keep working?” she asked. 

“I don’t know. It’s what my mom did.”

“My mom, too. So?”

“I just—I figured you’d want to stay home with our baby. So that it’s not raised by a stranger, you know?”

Diane huffed, throwing her hands in the air, and turned to go to their bedroom. Jim followed her, grabbing her arm. She spun around, fire in her eyes. “I’d like to be alone right now.”

“No, we need to talk about this!”

“I really don’t think now’s a good time to talk.”

“When are we going to talk, then?” Jim clenched his fists, feeling his blood pressure rise. 

“When you’re not yelling at me.”

“I’m not yelling at you!”

Diane cocked her head, looking at Jim in disbelief. 

“Fine. I’m sorry. Can I please come sleep with you?”

“Not tonight, Jim. I need to be alone.” She turned her back to him, closing the door. 

Jim settled himself on the couch, fluffing his pillow and adjusting blankets over himself. He hated fighting with Diane and just wanted to fix the whole thing. Why wouldn’t she want to stay home with their baby? He loved her independence. It’s what made her _her_. But he thought someone should stay home to parent, and he just couldn’t see himself doing it. He’d be the laughingstock of their friends. He didn’t look forward to Diane being judged for her choice, either. 

Jim fell asleep. 

Halfway through the night, Jim felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking it. He grunted, propping himself up on his elbow, squinting into the soft light of the room. “Diane? What time is it?”

“Three a.m.”

“Wha—why are you up?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Okay…so you’re trying to punish me by keeping me from sleep, too?”

“Exactly.” Diane smiled softly. “Wanna come back to bed? I hate fighting with you.”

“I hate it, too.”

Diane leaned in toward Jim, pressing her body against his as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m willing to listen to what you’re thinking.”

“Same.”

The pair made their way back to bed, and Diane snuggled into the crook of Jim’s arm. “Here’s the thing. I love my job. I don’t want to lose it. But I also want to have a baby. I imagine it’s how most men feel, only they don’t have to make the choice. I don’t think it’s right that, just because I’m a woman, it’s assumed that I’ll quit my job and be a homemaker. What if that’s not what I really want?”

Jim rubbed Diane’s arm. “It’s not right, but I guess the way I see it is that it’s best for the kids if someone stays home. I loved that my mom was home with me. I make more than you, and we’re just not at a point where it’s okay for a man to stay home, you know?”

“But we can help change that.”

“But what if I don’t want to stay home, either?”

Diane propped herself up, turning to face Jim. “What if I talk to my mom, and she’d be willing to babysit during the school year? That way, it’s family.”

Jim thought for a minute. “Sure. That seems like a decent compromise. But here’s the other end of compromise. If she says no, you quit your job, and you can go back after our kids are in school.”

Diane flopped back down onto the bed, sighing. “Okay, I’ll think about that. Let’s just get some sleep, huh? No need to worry about this right now. I’m not even pregnant!”

Jim grinned. “Good point. Yeah, let’s get some sleep.”


	8. Small Bump

**Summer 1973**

_Oh, you're just a small bump unknown, you'll grow into your skin_  
_With a smile like hers and a dimple beneath your chin_  
_Finger nails the size of a half grain of rice_  
_And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide_  
_A small bump, in four months you'll open your eyes_

_-Ed Sheeran_

“Jim! Guess what!” Diane hung up the phone, turning to her husband. She didn’t even wait for him to respond before blurting, “I’m pregnant!” 

“Are you serious?” Jim asked. They’d been trying for seven months with no luck. 

Diane giggled, covering her hand with her mouth as if she, too, couldn’t believe the news. “I know, right?”

Jim sprinted over to her, picking her up and spinning her while planting a kiss on her lips. “Oh, wait, maybe I shouldn’t do that.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

“So when’s it supposed to be born?”

“Um, Dr. Redford guessed sometime in April. Probably early.”

Jim’s head reeled from shock. _I’m going to be a dad. Holy shit!_ He already wondered what the baby would be like, and if it would be a boy or a girl. “Well, what do we need to do in the meantime?” Jim asked.

“I don’t know. I’m going to see the doctor in a couple weeks. He said he’d give me a pamphlet outlining everything. I do need to stop running and not exert myself too much.”

Jim frowned at that. He enjoyed daily runs with his wife to help keep him in shape, but he knew the health of the baby was most important. “Can we still have sex?”

“Of course that’s where your mind goes! He didn’t say not to, so I’m assuming so?”

Jim pulled Diane close and kissed her forehead before pressing his own to hers. “This is wonderful news. I’m so excited.”

“Me, too, hon.”

***

_A baby wailed in the distance. Jim moved toward the sound, careful to watch his step. Roots protruded from the ground, threatening to trip him. He pushed his way through the vines and heavy foliage surrounding him. Finally, he came to the infant, a newborn boy with stark black hair and beautiful, almond eyes._

_“Hey, it’s you,” he murmured, picking the boy up and holding him to his chest. “I think about you an awful lot.”_

_“You may think about me, but have you told anyone what happened?”_

_Jim’s breath stuttered as he held the child away from him, his mouth twisted in shock._

_“How can you—How are you—?”_

_The infant’s mouth remained closed, but he continued to speak. “You never really cared about me. Only about your guilt. You didn’t keep me alive.”_

_“I—I couldn’t,” Jim choked._

_“You didn’t name me.”_

_“I—”_

_“—couldn’t?”_

_Jim stopped. “It’s complicated.”_

_“Was it complicated when you let my mother die? If you’d protected her, I’d still be alive.”_

_Tears welled, running silently down Jim’s cheeks. As his knees buckled, he collapsed to the ground, and the baby disappeared from his arms._

Jim startled awake, sitting up in a cold sweat. Diane slept soundly next to him. He rubbed his hands over his face and got up, leaving the bedroom to make himself some coffee. It was already five a.m., so he figured he might as well get up. 

He sat at the kitchen table, pondering over the nightmare. He’d had several right after Vietnam, but nothing in awhile. Why now? 

The bedroom door cracked open, and Diane walked out, squinting, a blanket wrapped around herself. “What’re you doing up so early?” she asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Diane sat down across from him. “I know something’s up.”

He sighed. “I had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“What kind of bad dream?”

Jim really didn’t want to go into it. “I—it’s just that—okay, don’t hear me wrong on this—I’m really excited, but I think maybe the baby thing threw my head for a loop.”

“Oh, hon.” Diane reached across the table, placing a hand on top of his. “I’m nervous, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I’m nervous about having my first baby at twenty-nine. Worried I won’t be good at it. Wondering if I’ll make the right decision as far as work goes.”

“Well, I think you’ll be an amazing mom.”

“And I think you’ll be an amazing dad.” Diane paused. “I think I can guess what your dream was about.”

Jim’s heart skipped. “You can?”

“Was it about your dad?”

“Uh, well—”

“You’re not going to be your dad,” Diane said. “You’re going to be so much better than him. I’m certain of it.”

“Thanks.”

Diane stood up and leaned over the table, kissing the top of Jim’s head. “I’m going back to bed. I love you, sweetheart. Don’t beat yourself up.”

 _If only she knew everything_ , Jim thought. 

***

**Fall 1973**

A sound of retching echoed from the bathroom. Jim grimaced, then knocked. “You okay in there?”

“No,” Diane answered.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Water and crackers?”

Jim rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. He found what he was looking for and filled a glass with water before heading back to the bathroom. Cracking the door open, he peeked around the corner. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the crackers and water. “I thought it was called morning sickness, so why is it happening in the afternoon?”

“I don’t know, Jim!” 

“You gonna be okay with me heading off to work? Working late tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just go.”

Diane hadn’t anticipated being so sick, and although she made it to school most days, this day proved particularly difficult, so she’d taken it off. 

“I love you,” Jim called out as he walked toward the door. “I’ll call you later to check in.”

*******

Diane threw the apartment door open, puncturing the wall with a dent. 

“Where’s the fire?” Jim joked, then regretted it after seeing the look on his wife’s face. “Why are you so late?”

Diane fumed, heading for the kitchen and haphazardly throwing ingredients together for a casserole all while slamming drawers. Jim came up behind her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. She stopped, slumping forward. “I was fired.” At that, she burst into tears, turning and melting into Jim’s embrace. 

“What? Why?”

She continued to cry. “My kids. They’re going to go to school tomorrow, and I’m not going to be there!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Budget problems. It’s happening all over the city. I just can’t help but think—”

“That you’re pregnant, and they assumed you’d be leaving, anyway?”

Diane looked up at Jim and nodded as fresh tears fell. “And that I’ve been so sick. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.”

He held her close as she cried. “What about your contract? The union?”

“We haven’t signed a contract yet. They knew there were budget problems, and the union’s been trying to work out a deal with the district. I didn’t think it would come to this.”

“So what’s gonna happen with your kids?”

Diane shrugged her shoulders. “Hell if I know. Probably gonna divvy ‘em up and pack them in other classrooms like sardines. But who cares, right? Most of them are black, anyway.”

“Hey, don’t worry about dinner. I’ll make it or—I’ll pick something up. Go lie down.”

Diane nodded.

Later, as Jim brought takeout into the bedroom for Diane, he found her fast asleep. He kissed her temple and left to put the food in the fridge. It was hard on her now, but at least this solved the question of whether to have her stay home or not. He just hoped that she’d be happy with it in time. 

***

**Winter 1974**

Jim’s eyes roamed over his wife’s naked body. At six months pregnant, her belly took the shape of a basketball, navel popped out. Her hips and thighs had softened over the last several months, and her breasts had grown round and full. 

“What’re you staring at?” Diane asked, wrapping a towel around herself. 

“Don’t do that,” Jim whined. “God, you look incredible.” Most days, Diane wore loose-fitting maxi dresses, popular with expectant mothers. Even at home, she didn’t often let him see her fully unclothed. She said she felt self-conscious.

“I look incredibly huge.”

Jim stood up, walking over to Diane, releasing her hand on the towel as it pooled to the floor. “You don’t, though. I think you’re so, so sexy…”

Diane huffed. “Please.”

Jim grabbed her hand, placing it on his cock. “Does it seem like I’m making shit up?”

Her eyes widened before narrowing. “You really find this sexy?”

“God, _yes_. I want to fuck you all the time. What happened to the confident Diane I used to know?”

“That confident Diane got pregnant, violently ill, then ballooned into something she didn’t recognize as herself.”

“Please, will you let me show you how I feel about your body?”

Diane rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she smirked. “Fine.”

Jim cupped Diane’s face, bringing his mouth to hers. Diane moaned when he thrust his tongue past her lips, and Jim smiled. “See, there it is.” Leading her to their bed, he sat her down on the edge and crawled behind her. Once he’d stripped himself of all his clothes, he pressed his body into her back and began massaging her shoulders. His lips trailed up her neck until he reached her earlobe, sucking on it gently. She flinched a little as Jim’s cold fingers moved to her breasts, squeezing them and twirling his thumbs around her nipples. “Sorry about the cold hands,” he mumbled before taking them away to blow heat on them. He returned to her chest, teasing her nipples into points as he bit down on her shoulder. 

“Ah—oh, Jim!”

“Getting a little carried away. Sorry.” He continued to run his hands up and down Diane’s body, squeezing her hips and thighs as he nestled his face into the crook of her neck, sighing.

“You know, most men probably leave their wives alone during pregnancy.”

“I’m not most men.”

Lying on his back, Jim motioned for Diane to climb on top of him. “Nope, not happening,” she said. “Here, I’ll lie down on my side and you get behind me.”

Jim curled in flush against Diane’s back. “I think you’re so beautiful and sexy. Always have. Still do.”

“Okay, I’m warming up to this a little. Tell me more.”

“Well, I’ve always loved how your body showed off your athleticism. But now, your body’s changing and has so many wonderful curves…I just love all of it. Every stage of you.”

“Go on.”

“I love this.” He kissed her hip. “And this.” He nuzzled her back. “And this.” He squeezed her ass. “And these.” He cupped a breast. “And this, of course.” He smoothed his hand down her round belly. 

“Okay, I believe you. Now get that cock over here.”

He positioned himself and pushed into her with a groan. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He gripped her top hip to anchor himself as he thrust. 

“Mm, you too. I need you harder.”

“I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“You won’t.”

Jim pumped faster, skin slapping skin. “Here or here?” he panted. He rested his hand against her breast, then moved it to her vulva. 

“Here.” She placed his hand back on her chest and moved her fingers down to rub herself. “Oh, Jim…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Mm, I love you, too.”

Jim finished, pressing himself against Diane’s back and holding still as his cock pulsed inside of her. He shifted, sitting up against the headboard, supporting Diane as she leaned against him. He kissed her neck and massaged her tits while she worked at her clit, finally letting go with a yell. 

They sat in silence for a minute until Diane grasped Jim’s hand, nuzzling her face into it. “I didn’t realize I needed that.”

Jim stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’m getting sleepy. Wanna take a nap with me?”

Diane’s eyelids fluttered. “Mm, that sounds amazing,” she said as she shifted and snuggled into Hopper’s side.

***

**Spring 1974**

As Diane’s due date approached, she became antsy. Jim would often arrive home after work to find her scrubbing the kitchen floor or sticking yet another casserole into the freezer. 

“Hey, you’re doing too much,” he would tell her, but she usually shrugged him off, arguing that she needed something to do and couldn’t just sit around all day. 

Jim’s nightmares returned full-force, and more often than not, he woke up with night sweats. He moved to the couch to sleep, explaining that he wanted Diane to get as much rest as possible before the baby came. He didn’t want her to know that he had reoccurring nightmares about a mother and child he let die in Vietnam. That the closer they got to becoming parents, the more terrified he became. Or even that his job was on the line, because the same thing that happened to Diane’s job had started happening to all government workers across the city. He suspected she knew. She kept up on all that stuff, and she wasn’t exactly stupid. They never talked about it, though. Jim, because he didn’t want to worry Diane, and Diane, probably because she didn’t want to upset Jim.

One night in early April, Jim woke on the couch, torso and legs slick with sweat. With eyes blown wide, he jumped up from the couch, holding his hands out in defense and turning in a circle. He yelped when he saw Diane, standing behind the couch, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Jim!”

He heaved, shoulders relaxing, as he came to. He pulled his saturated t-shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. 

“What is going on?”

“Nightmare,” Jim said, avoiding Diane’s eyes. 

“Really? How many of these have you been having? Are you—”

“It’s fine. I haven’t had any that I haven’t told you about.” A lie. 

Diane eyed Jim up and down. “But they’re getting worse?”

“No, this was just a particularly bad one. I don’t remember it, though.” Another lie. 

“Can that happen?”

“Yeah, I’ve had it happen before.”

“Anything I can do?” Diane still held her distance, watching Jim as if he might start screaming again. 

“Just don’t worry and go back to sleep. We’re so close. You need to rest.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Yeah, okay. I just worry about you.”

“I’m fine. Promise.” Jim leaned over and gave Diane a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Jim settled back down on the couch. It would be okay. Wouldn't it?


	9. Real Love

_All my little plans and schemes_   
_Lost like some forgotten dreams_   
_Seems like all I really was doing_   
_Was waiting for you_

_-Regina Spektor_

 

A bullet shattered a storefront window. Jim and Bill hit the ground, covering their heads as glass sprayed over their backs. They flung their bodies against a side wall, backs flush, guns out, while another bullet struck the police cruiser windshield. 

“Fuck! We need back up!” Bill said. 

“I know. There’s no way to get to our vehicle, unless we can incapacitate the perp.” Jim peered around the corner to locate the source of the shooting, and a bullet whizzed past his head, puncturing a hole in a mailbox on the sidewalk. He flew backward into the alley. “Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“Oh, this guy’s going down.”

“Yeah, but we have to catch him, first.” Suddenly, Jim heard sirens in the distance, getting closer. “Someone must’ve called it in.”

A minute later, they heard a voice sound through a megaphone. “Don’t move! We’ve got you surrounded!”

Jim peered around the corner again. Six police vehicles blocked the road, facing another alley. A boy of about fourteen walked out, hands in the air as two police officers tackled him to the ground. _Just a teenager._ Jim’s stomach turned. That kid would never have a chance. 

“That punk ass kid’s gonna be put away for a long time,” Bill said, interrupting Jim’s thoughts.

“Heh, yeah. Man, you’re so chicken shit your mustache is sweating.”

“ _Everywhere_ is sweating. That bullet almost put a fucking hole in your head. Bet you’re not gonna tell Diane that one.”

“Hell no.” Jim walked over to his police cruiser. As he opened up the passenger side door, glass clinked to the ground. He twisted his body inside just enough to grab the handheld radio and avoid cutting himself on the shards. “This is Officer Jim Hopper. Officer Bill Weaver and I have not been injured, but our cruiser’s been shot out. Suspect’s been apprehended. We’ll need a tow.”

A crackle sounded through the radio before the dispatcher responded. “10-20?”

“East 172nd and Sheridan.”

“We’ll send a tow.”

“10-4.” 

Once Jim and Bill made it back to the station, Jim noticed several notes on his desk. _Wife called-1:30. Wife called-3:30. Wife called-4:35._

Jim pressed the button on his answering machine. Another five messages from Diane.

_“Jim, I think I might be going into labor. Please call back when you get this.”_

_“Hey, it’s me again. Something’s definitely up. I’m staying at home for now, but please call me back soon.”_

_“Where are you? Please call.”_

_“Jim, my water broke. I’m heading to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”_

_“Hon, I’m at the hospital. Please get here soon. It’s currently 5:07.”_

Jim looked at his watch. _5:15._ He poked his head around the corner. “Hey Bill. Diane’s in labor. I’m taking off.”

“Good luck! Call me with any news.”

“Will do.” Jim raced to his car and peeled out of the parking lot, going a bit too fast. Red taillights flickered on in front of him, and he slammed on his breaks to avoid hitting the stopped car. _Damn it._ Rush hour. He started honking, trying to weave in and out of cars, which, of course, caused people to flip him off and yell things out their windows. “My wife’s in labor!” he yelled back, cursing under his breath. Diane would never forgive him if he wasn’t there. 

Luckily, they’d chosen a hospital close to their apartment and, thus, close to Jim’s station. At 5:31, he ran, breathless, into the maternity ward and to the front desk. “Hopper. Diane Hopper. Where is she?” 

“We’ve just taken her back to prep her,” the receptionist said. 

“I need to see her.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir. If you’ll have a seat—”

“No. No, I have to see her. She doesn’t know I’m here. She has to know I’m here.”

The receptionist sighed, rolling her eyes and picked up the phone. “Kathy? Yeah, Diane Hopper’s husband is out here and wants to see her. I know. He’s not gonna back down until he does, though. Mhm. Okay. Thank you.” She hung up. “I’ll let you back there for a few minutes, but just know that we’re making an exception. We don’t normally do this.”

“Thank you! Which room?”

“Room 304. Straight through those doors and to the left.”

Jim dashed through the doors, turning left, and found Room 304. He burst through the door, finding Diane in a bed, blowing air and gripping the handrails. He took her hand. “Hey, baby. I’m here.”

“Jim!” she moaned. “Where were you?”

“Emergency at work. It’s not important right now. What’s important is that I’m here.” He turned to the nurse. “Any way I can stay with her through this?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hopper. That’s against policy.”

“It shouldn’t be. I can help calm her.”

“It won’t be necessary, sir. We have medications and nurses for that. Besides, I don’t think you’ll want to see her in this condition.”

“Condition? Lemme tell you—”

Diane squeezed his hand. “Hon, it’s alright. I’ll be okay. Just—wait for me, okay? And be back as soon as they let you.”

“I will be back as soon as humanly possible. I love you.” He leaned down to kiss her, then let go of her hand.

“I love you, too.”

Jim sat in a waiting room chair, bouncing his legs. He clasped then unclasped his hands. When his stomach growled, he remembered he hadn't had dinner and stood up, then sat back down, worrying that they’d call him back while he was gone. In the five hours of waiting, he thought he may have dozed off for a little bit, but he spent most of his time pacing and fidgeting. 

Finally, at 10:30 p.m., a nurse called him into the hallway, leading him to a rolling bassinet. “This is your baby daughter.”

Jim leaned down, stroking the cheek of the newborn he and Diane had agreed to name Sara. Her eyes stayed closed, but she turned her fuzzy, white-blonde head toward his hand, rooting. He was smitten with her already. “Can I hold her?”

“I’m afraid we can’t allow you to do that. We need to get her to the nursery and monitor her.”

“Where’s Diane?”

“Your wife is in recovery.”

“Can I see her?”

“Not yet. It’s late. You should go home and come back in the morning.”

“The morning?”

“Yes, Mr. Hopper. It’s policy.”

“Can I at least see my wife and tell her I’m leaving?” Jim asked.

“She’s sleeping.”

Jim sighed. “What time?”

“You can come back as early as seven.”

“Okay. I’ll be back at seven on the dot. Please— _please_ tell Diane that I’ll be back.”

When Jim got home, he collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. All he wanted was to be with his wife and child. To hold both of them. To tell Diane how proud of her he was. He set his alarm for 6:00 a.m.

Early the next morning, Jim arrived back at the hospital, finally able to visit Diane’s room. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, moving over to her and cupping her face for a kiss. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you until now.” He glanced over toward the nurse, then leaned in close. “They wouldn’t let me back here. But I’m here now.” He stroked her hair, moving it away from her face. “How did everything go?”

“I can’t really remember. It’s all fuzzy. Where’s the baby?”

“You mean Sara? I was hoping they’d bring her in so I could hold her. You mean you haven’t seen her yet?” Jim felt his blood pressure rise. 

“I—I don’t know, Jim. Probably? I honestly can’t remember much.” She lifted her head slightly. “Excuse me?” she called to the nurse.

The nurse turned toward her. “Yes?”

“Have I seen my baby yet?”

“Of course, ma’am. We brought her to you once you came to, about midnight, then again two hours ago.”

Diane brought her hand to her mouth, choking back tears as the back of Jim’s hand glided along her cheek. 

“Can you bring her to us now?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, sir, we bring all the babies by at intervals—”

Jim gritted his teeth. “ _Now._ I won’t ask nicely again.”

The nurse pursed her lips and turned on her heels out of the room. 

Jim kissed Diane’s hand, then her face. “Next time, I won’t let you go to a shitty hospital.”

The nurse returned pushing Sara in her bassinet. Jim stood right away, scooping his little girl into his arms. She let out a lamb cry. “Oh, hey. It’s okay,” he said as he bounced her a little. “Mama and Daddy are here now. Together.” He turned toward his wife. “And here’s your Mama. You met her, but she’s been through a lot these past few hours and wants to see you again.” Jim walked over to Diane’s bedside, carefully placing Sara into her arms. 

“Hey,” she whispered, adjusting the blankets so she could see Sara’s face better. “I’m your Mama.” She stroked Sara’s tiny hand. 

Jim watched Diane, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “If that nurse tries anything, I’ll barricade the door,” he said. “How long before we’re outta here?”

“Four more days, I think,” Diane said.

“Four? What the hell for?”

Diane shrugged. “To monitor us, I guess? I’m pretty beaten up down there.” She forced a smile. 

“Yeah but—they’re going to make me go home again.”

“Not if you barricade the door.” This time, her smile was genuine.

Jim leaned over to kiss her. “I love you, you know that? Always.”

***

Four days later, Jim carried his new baby girl into his apartment with one hand and clutched Diane’s hand with the other as she walked on shaky feet. After helping her sit on the couch, he sat himself beside her. “It’s good to be home.”

“Yeah, it is,” Diane agreed. 

“How are you doing?”

She sighed. “Oh, you know. Bleeding like a stuck pig. Still look five months pregnant. Sliced and diced down below.”

Jim grimaced a little. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry. You wanna go rest? I’ll feed Sara her bottle.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s a good idea.” Diane pushed herself off the couch and headed for the bedroom. 

Jim gazed down at Sara. So small. So beautiful. She’d only been alive for five days, and she already had him wrapped around her finger. Her teeny, tiny finger. He admired her little hands, her small feet. All of a sudden, her face scrunched up, bright red lighting up her cheeks. A wail burst forth from her lips, startling Jim. “Hey, hey. You hungry? Let’s go get a bottle.” He propped her up against his shoulder, walking to the kitchen, and pulling a glass bottle from the cabinet. “Now how was I supposed to do this?” he mumbled as Sara screamed in his ear. He studied the formula container like it contained directions in another language. Finally thinking he understood, he measured out the correct amount of powdered formula and mixed it with water in the bottle. Then, he boiled a pot of water to warm the bottle. It took forever, of course. Jim walked up and down the room, patting Sara, bouncing her, rubbing her belly, anything he could think of to get her to calm, but nothing worked. Finally, bubbles formed around the inside of the pot until they grew bigger and rose to the surface of the water, slowly at first, then rapidly. Jim stuck the bottle in, wondering how much longer to wait. When he thought it might be warm enough, he pulled it out with tongs and squeezed a drop on his wrist. He’d seen the nurses do it in the hospital. When he decided the temperature was right, he headed back to the couch.

“Okay, Sara. Here you go.” He cradled her in his arm and put the nipple to her lips. She accepted it tentatively, even sucking a little, before bursting back into cries. “Sara, I don’t know what to do. We need to make Mama believe that I can take care of you, but she won’t if we wake her up. We don’t want her to wake up, do we?” Sara’s blue eyes widened. She quieted, jutting her tongue out of her mouth several times over, observing her father. Jim chuckled in surprise. “Yeah, we’re a team, you and me. I knew it.” 

When Sara finished the bottle, she began squirming, bunching her legs and arms in toward her body, screeching. “What now?” Jim asked. He glanced toward the bedroom door, then back to Sara. “You need a change?” Laying a blanket on the ground, he placed her down and removed her diaper. “Nope. Okay, what else, what else?” Picking her up, he paced the house once more, bouncing the girl lightly while keeping hold of her neck. Suddenly, a gush of warm liquid hit his shoulder and poured down the back of his shirt. He pulled Sara away from him to see that she’d spit up. A lot. Jim grinned. “So _that’s_ what you were trying to tell me. Stupid Daddy. You have a lot to teach me, kid.”

***

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.

Baby mine, dry your eyes.

Rest your head, close to my heart.

Never to part, baby of mine.

Little one, when you play, 

Pay no heed, what they say.

Let your eyes sparkle and shine.

Never a tear, baby of mine.”

 

Jim held Sara close and rocked gently. His lips brushed against her baby fine hair as he breathed in that distinctive newborn smell. 

Diane walked up and put her hand on his shoulder. “She’s perfect, isn't she?”

“Perfect, just like her mother.”

“Smooth.”

“She has your nose,” Jim said.

“She has your eyes. She’ll be a charmer, this one. Where’d you learn that lullaby?”

“Oh, that? Uh, my mom. She used to sing it to me and Rich. I guess it just came back to me after all this time.” 

Diane’s eyes crinkled as she smiled, eyes watering a little. “That’s very sweet. I’m sure Sara would love to hear all about her when she gets older.”

“Yeah,” Hopper nodded. “Yeah, I look forward to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took part of this chapter from another one of my works, because I liked it a lot. The stories are not tied together at all.


	10. You Are The Best Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've gotten this up sooner, but I was too busy MEETING DAVID HARBOUR!!! (For anyone wondering, he was awesome.)

**Spring 1975**  

_Baby_  
_It's been a long day, baby_  
_Things ain't been going my way_  
_You now I need you here_  
_You clear my mind all the time_

_And, baby_  
_The way you move me, it's crazy_  
_It's like you see right through me_  
_And make it easier_  
_Believe me, you don't even have to try_

_Oh, because_  
_You are the best thing_  
_You are the best thing_  
_You are the best thing_  
_Ever happened to me_  

_-Ray Lamontagne_

“Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, Dear Sara

Happy birthday to you”

Jim held one-year-old Sara in his lap, helping her blow out the candle on top of her pink-frosted birthday cake. All around, their friends and family were gathered in their apartment kitchen. Bill, Catherine, and their two pre-teen daughters were there, along with all of Diane’s family and a few of her closest friends. Jim’s heart lurched just a little bit, but he pushed the feeling aside and leaned over to grin at his daughter. “Hey, you’re gonna get your first taste of cake! I’ll warn ya, though, it’s delicious. Once you try it, there’s no turning back.”

“Says the man with the sweet tooth.” Diane smiled. 

“Uh, yeah. You’re the weird one, not me,” Jim said. 

He cut a slice of cake for Sara, set her in her highchair, and placed the plate in front of her.

“You’re not even going to put a bib on her?” Diane asked.

“Nah. She’s gonna get it all in her hair, anyway.”

And Sara did. She tasted a little, but the cake proved much more fun to play with, as she squished it between her fingers, banged it on the tray, rubbed it all over herself, and eventually dropped the plate on the floor. 

“Okay, so who’s got bath duty?” Hopper asked, squinting his eyes at his wife.

“You, clearly.” She took a couple more pictures of their daughter, and Jim scooped her up, heading for the bathroom while Diane mingled with their guests.

 After he warmed the bath, Jim placed Sara in the tub. “You sure are a mess, you little stinker.”

Sara only waved bye bye at him. 

“Oh, I see how it is!” He placed his hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “First, you throw my cake on the floor. Then, you tell me to leave. That’s low.”

Sara shrieked, splashing the water with her palms. 

“Okay, okay.” Jim held his hands up. “Didn’t mean to upset the princess.” He ruffled her cake-covered hair, smiling. 

“Dada.”

Jim startled. “W-what?” His lips quirked at the corners. 

“Dadadadada.”

Jim’s face lit up as he turned his head toward the cracked door. “ _Diane_!” 

She came rushing in, face pale. “What is it? What happened?”

“Sara said her first word!”

“Oh, god, Jim. You gave me a heart attack. What is it?”

Sara continued to splash, calling out, “Dadadada.”

Diane looked at her husband, tilting her head. “Are you sure? Sounds like babbling to me.”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous to me.”

She sat down on the floor next to Jim. “Not jealous, just—I spend all my time with her here at home. I thought for sure she’d say Mama first.”

“I guess I’m just the fun one,” Jim said, making silly faces at Sara.  

“Yep, I suppose you are.” She stood up. “I’m gonna get back to our guests. Clean her, okay? Looks like you haven’t done anything.”

“We’re _playing_ ,” Jim said, exaggerating a huff. “We’ll get to it eventually.” He turned back to his daughter. “Say it again. _Daaa daaa. Daaa daaa._ ”

He didn’t notice Diane leave or close the door behind her. 

 

**Summer 1975**

  
****

“Dada!” Sara toddled toward Jim as he walked through the door, wrapping her body around his leg.

“Hey, kiddo.” He patted her head, then looked up at Diane, lips set in a frown.

“Oh no, what is it?”

Jim didn’t say anything. 

 “You weren’t fired, were you?”

The unspoken reality of the situation finally came out into the open.

“Not yet.”

“Jesus, Jim! What’re we going to do?”

“Nothing just yet. I’ve been working my ass off the past several months, and Bill has my back, so maybe I’ll be all right? They’ve already cut twenty percent city-wide. How many more can they cut?”

Diane folded her arms. “Maybe you’ll be all right? No, that’s not good enough. I’m going to get a job.”

“No, you’re not.”

“What do you mean no, I’m not? It’s not really your choice.”

“Not my choice? Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Loud and clear.”

They stared at each other for a few moments until Jim looked down at Sara, still gripping his leg and observing them intently. “We better not do this in front of the kid,” he said.

“She’s one!”

“Yeah, well, I know she senses things. Moods and stuff. Who knows how much she picks up?”

“Fine.” Diane threw her hands into the air, then slapped them to her sides. “You get your way, again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asked.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Why don’t you want me getting a job?”

Jim leaned down, picking Sara up and placing a big kiss on her cheek. “I just—I know it’s going to be hard, okay? So many people have been let go. Do you think you’re gonna find a job in retail or at a restaurant or something? What do you think everyone else will be going for? And it wouldn’t be regular hours, which would be hard on your mom. And didn’t we talk about having another kid? It just doesn’t seem like the best time.”

“I’d say your potential firing is as good a time as any. But you know what? I’m just going to let you handle it. That’s what I’m supposed to do, anyway, isn’t it?”

Jim frowned. “I’m just trying to do right by our family.”

Diane sighed. “I know, and I really do appreciate it. I just—this can all be hard. Sometimes.” She put a hand on Jim’s arm. 

“I know.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her head. 

Later that night, Jim curled in toward Diane in bed. “Sorry about the fight earlier,” he said. “I love you, and I don’t want us to be mad at each other.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed him gently on the mouth. 

Jim leaned in, gripping Diane’s hip, rotating it toward him as he trailed kisses down her neck. He squeezed her ass, then cupped her breast, breathing becoming heavier as he grew hard against her leg. “It’s been so long, baby.”

Diane sighed, pulling away. “I know, hon, but—”

Jim stopped. “What? We haven’t had sex in three weeks, and that time was so fast, it almost didn’t count.”

“I’ve just been so tired.”

“For over a year?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, I pushed a human out of me and have had to take care of her day-in, day-out, almost no breaks, and she still wakes during the night sometimes.”

“You sound almost resentful,” Jim said.

“Now that’s not fair! I am nowhere near resentful, and I love our daughter so, so much, and I want another desperately, but still. This is not what I imagined my life being, exactly, and yes, it _is_ exhausting. Mostly mentally and emotionally. I have a child climbing on me all day, and to be honest, the last thing I want is to be touched at the end of the day.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim mumbled. “I’m just frustrated. With a lot of things.”

“I know, but we’ve gotta communicate better. Not take our frustrations out on the other.”

Jim thought for a moment. “Why don’t I take you out for a nice dinner the next evening I have off? Sara can go to your mom’s. It’ll be fun. Just like old times.”

“Can we afford that?”

“I’ll make it work.”

Diane smiled. “Okay. I’d like that.”

 

**Summer 1976**

 

Jim followed Sara as she walked toward the zebras, white-blonde curls floating around her face in the light breeze. “What’re those?” he asked.

“Zeba!” she shouted.

“Right, zebras! What about those?” He pointed a little to the left.

“Jaffe.”

“Right, giraffes! Little Miss Smarty Pants!”

“Sma pas.”

Jim took Sara’s hand. “Ready to go get some ice cream? I know I am.”

“Ice ceam.”

He headed back in the other direction toward the concession stand when Sara stopped in her tracks and pointed at a stroller. “Ohh, baby!”

“Yep, sure is, all right.” Hopper’s thoughts drifted to Diane. How the two of them had been trying for a second baby for eight months. He tried not to worry about it. Sara had taken nearly that long. But he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. Diane’s new doctor, Dr. Chapman, told Diane to check back in after a year of trying, and they would start running some tests. He wasn’t sure what all that entailed, and he hoped they wouldn’t have to find out. 

At the moment, Sara happened to be particularly interested in every baby she saw. It didn’t make things easy for Jim. He steered her away from the stroller and to the ice cream stand. 

Later on that afternoon, Jim sat on the newspaper-lined living room floor while Sara stood at a child’s easel clad in only shorts, all of her covered in blue, yellow, and red.  

Jim put his hand to his chin, squinting his eyes. “That is a masterpiece if I do say so myself. Very abstract. How much’re you selling it for?”

“I pait.”

“Yes, I can see that. How about a nickel?”

Sara shook her head.

“No? A dime?”

“No.”

“Lady, you drive a hard bargain. Okay, a quarter.”

“No kata.”

“Oh, I see. It’s priceless. Well, I can’t argue with that.”

Sara walked over to her daddy, sliding the paintbrush across his nose, turing it blue. “I pait Dada.”

Just then, Diane walked through the door. She came to an abrupt halt, taking everything in. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Hey, hon. Did you have a good time with your sister?”

“Yeah. Jim. The apartment.”

He looked around, only then noticing the dishes piled up, toys and books everywhere, spilled Cheerios, and the paint explosion in the living room. Shrugging, he turned back to look at Diane. “I guess we got a little carried away.”

“A little? Were you planning on cleaning this up, or…?”

“Eventually…”

Diane gave Jim a tight-lipped smile and headed silently to the kitchen, stopping up the sink and running the faucet. 

“I think it’s bath time,” Jim whispered to Sara. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Later that evening, after Sara was clean and tucked in bed, Jim walked up behind Diane, cupping her breasts and kissing her neck. “Hey, baby.”

Diane tensed under his touch, but didn’t push him away. “You wanna fuck?” she murmured.

“Do I want to fuck? Let me think.” Jim glanced up and to the side as if deep in thought. “Uh, yes.” It’d been about two-and-a-half weeks since their last encounter, and Jim ached for more. At the same time, he didn’t want to pressure Diane, so he’d been waiting for her to come to him, only she never did. He led her through the bedroom door and to the bed. When he crawled over her, hovering, a grin spread across his face. “Can’t wait to bury my face in your thighs.”

“Actually, can we just fuck?”

Jim couldn’t help the disappointment that spread across his face. “Really? You don’t want me to go down on you? Is it that time or something?”

“No, I don’t have my period. I just don’t feel like it. I feel like fucking.”

“Okay, sure.” Just fucking could be great, too. He took off his clothes, then peeled Diane’s off, piece by piece, drawing it out, reveling in his wife’s body. 

“Can you go a little faster?” she asked.

“I like taking my time.”

“I know, but I’m impatient, hon.”

Jim smiled. “Okay.” He urged her on top, but she rolled off of him and onto her back, pulling him toward her. “Better chance conceiving this way.”

 _Oh._  

Jim went through all the motions, adding little kisses and touches that he knew weren’t necessary, although he hoped they were noticed. He managed to elicit a sharp gasp when he curled his hips upward mid-thrust, followed by moaning as he worked the move again and again. Eventually, he got her to come, and he soon followed. When he rolled off of her and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers, it was less than a minute before Sara cried out from her bedroom. 

Diane sighed. “I guess that’s my call.” 

Before she could get up, though, Jim grabbed her arm, stopping her. “You want another, but you’re whining about parenting this one?”

“No, I’m not whining, and yes, I want another. I just—let’s talk about this later, okay?”

He let go of her arm. “Fine.” 

A couple minutes later, Diane stepped into the doorway crossing her arms. “She wants you.”

“I’ve gotta get sleep for work tomorrow. Can’t you handle it?”

“Yes, I can handle it, Jim. I gave her kisses and settled her back down, but she’s asking for you.”

“Fine, bring her in here.”

Diane left and returned a minute later with their daughter, placing her on the bed. “I’m going to go sleep on the couch, okay?”

“Sure,” Jim mumbled, turning toward Sara. “Hey, honey. What’s the matter?” He smoothed her hair, kissing her forehead. 

“Want Dada.”

“Dada’s gotta get some sleep.”

“Pay.”

“We can’t play right now, Princess. It’s sleepy time.”

“I pay.” Sara climbed on top of Jim, scaling the mountain she likely imagined her father to be. 

“No, Sara. It’s bedtime. If you don’t lie down and go to sleep, I’m gonna put you back in your bed.”

Sara seemed to understand this and settled down next to her daddy, snuggling in close. Jim couldn’t stay irritated for long. He relaxed, rubbing Sara’s back and closing his eyes. At least someone needed him.

***

“So I was thinking, when we have our second, I want a natural birth,” Diane told Jim one evening as he sat on the couch reading _Carrie_. “I saw a special on TV the other day about it, and I really think it would help me emotionally. Sara’s birth was—well…you know. If I went the natural birth route, I could see the baby right away and I’d have my bearings at all times, and best of all, a hospital that’s willing to do this will usually let the husband stay. I feel like all this could help me heal in a way, you know?"

“Uh huh,” Jim said, eyes still on his novel.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.” Jim glanced up from his book for a moment before returning.

“Jim!”

He looked up once more. “What?”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not.”

“Well, then what are you?”

“I’m _reading_.”

“Funny.”

He set down his book. “Oh, I don't know, Diane. Let’s see. For starters, you won’t have sex with me unless it’s to make a baby, and even then, it’s so boring, I’m practically falling asleep. Or how about that you’re always complaining about shit you have to do around the house, including spending time with our daughter? And last but not least, how I can’t figure out why, with all that I just said, you want another baby. _I_ want another baby, but I don’t understand your motives.”

Diane burst into tears. 

Jim folded his arms, ignoring it, eventually going back to his book. 

The next day, Jim sat at his desk in the police station, pouring over paperwork, when Bill walked in. “Mornin’, Bill,” Jim said without looking up. 

“Morning. You look a little worse for the wear today.”

Jim grunted in response. 

“Everything cool with the wife and kid?”

“Yeah, everything’s great.”

“Good,” Bill said as he sat to join Jim in the paperwork.

Later that morning, the men patrolled New York’s streets in their cruiser, waiting for a call. 

“Yesterday, after you left, Kev and I were called out to some domestic dispute in Harlem, and fuck if I’m going there, right?” Bill said. “I mean, with all the fucking set ups lately, who knows what we were walking into. So Kev and I, we stopped for donuts and reported it as secure. Too much shit to do, am I right? Been hell lately.”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything ended up fine,” Jim said, staring out the window. He sat in silence for a good minute. “You and Catherine ever get in domestic disputes? Fights?”

Bill chuckled. “Not like the ones you’d call the cops for, no. Fights, yeah. Doesn’t everyone?”

“I dunno. Diane…we’ve been fighting lately. She’s, uh—she’s not acting like she used to.”

“How do you mean?” Bill asked.

“Uh, she doesn’t seem happy. Bitches at me all the time. Seems almost jealous in a way.”

“She said she wanted to teach, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s kinda out the window, now,” Jim said. 

“Sure, sure. Catherine never wanted to be anywhere but home, but you know, especially after the girls, she was a pretty little mess, too.”

“How long?”

Bill sighed, thinking. “Oh, at least the first four years. Until they became a bit more independent. Diane, she still putting out?”

“Uh,” Jim scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, but not like she used to.”

“Normal, man. Catherine was like that, too.”

“And it gets better?”

“I mean, yeah. Never like it was, don’t get me wrong. But, you know. They just get tired.”

Jim hummed, nodding, before glancing out the window, seeing smoke. “Hey, twelve o’clock. Fire. Call it in.”

That evening, Jim walked through his apartment door. Diane sat on the living room floor, reading to Sara. Their eyes met. “Hey,” Jim said.

“Hi.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Leftovers.”

“Okay.”

“Sara and I already ate.”

“Okay.”

Diane squinted at Jim. “Okay? You’re not going to fight me on it?”

“No.”

She blinked. “Huh. Well. That’s good, I suppose.”

“Listen, babe, I’m sorry about what I said last night. I’d like to talk if you’re up for it.”

Diane turned to Sara. “Hey, sweetie. Why don’t you go read some books and have Cheerios in your room for a few minutes? See if you can find Runaway Bunny.”

At that, Sara padded over to her room, Cheerio-filled cup in hand.

“Again, I’m sorry. I talked to Bill, and he said what you’re dealing with is normal,” Jim told Diane.

“You talked to Bill?”

“Yeah. Picture-perfect Catherine even struggled. So. I think I get it a little.”

Diane studied Jim’s eyes. “You know, that’s great Bill told you that, but I wish you didn’t have to hear it from him. Why didn’t you just listen to me?”

“You haven’t wanted to talk.”

“Jim. I’ve told you numerous times how exhausted I am. And how Sara’s birth traumatized me in a way.”

Jim’s heart sank. “It traumatized you?”

“Yes. You can’t imagine the feeling of having a baby ripped from your body and being too fuzzy to remember or even care. The feeling of holding your daughter and realizing you’d held her before, but there’s just no memory of it. Nothing at all. That I wasn’t even given a choice of whether to nurse or not, or how often I could hold my sweet baby. The cutting. The stitching. Sometimes, it hurts. I don’t tell you, because I don’t want to make you feel bad. I guess it’s just easier to tell you no.”

Jim took Diane’s hand, kissing it. “I had no idea. And I’m sorry for that.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“And Sara? Is that why…?”

“Yes and no. I love spending time with her, but deep down, I know she favors you, and, I know it’s irrational and stupid, but I can’t help but feel that it’s because I wasn’t there for her in her first moments.”  
  
“Neither was I." 

“It’s different, though. She was a part of me. Inside me. And I didn’t have the ability to keep her safe when she came out. And it’s just that…you’re kind of like the fun one, and I’m the one who has to be the bad guy, you know? And clean up after all the fun stuff you do.”

Jim reflected on this for a moment. He hadn’t been trying to create that dynamic, and yet, she was right. He didn’t get to see Sara as often as she did, so he wanted all of his interactions with her to be fun.

Diane continued. “And I’m not saying I don’t want you to have any fun—”

“No, of course not,” Jim interrupted. “But I’ll try my best to be thoughtful of that. What about this second baby thing? You don’t think it’ll overwhelm you?”

“No. I think it will be healing for me.”

Jim nodded. He didn’t totally understand it, but he could be okay with that. He rested his head against Diane’s. “I love you. I really do.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“Now let’s go see what that little monkey got up to. It’s way too quiet in there.”

Diane laughed. “I agree. Let’s go.”

Jim grabbed her hand as they got up to check on their daughter together. 

 


	11. Me and You and You and Me

**Summer 1977**

_Imagine me and you, I do_  
_I think about you day and night, it's only right_  
_To think about the girl you love and hold her tight_  
_So happy together_

_Me and you and you and me_  
_No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be_  
_The only one for me is you, and you for me_  
_So happy together_  

_I can't see me lovin' nobody but you_  
_For all my life_  
_When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue_  
_For all my life_

_-The Turtles_

Sara gazed up into the clear sky. “Why do I see the moon?” she asked her daddy.

Jim flipped a burger on the grill, then followed her stare upward. “Because the moon is always there. We just don’t always see it.”

“Why is it a crescent?”

Jim beamed at her use of the word crescent. “It depends how the earth is tilted or something. I’m not entirely sure. Why don’t we get a book from the library?”

Sara smiled at that idea. “Okay, Daddy.”

“You want me to cut up a hamburger for you, or are you going to have a hot dog?”

“Hot dog.”

Jim threw one on the grill and watched as Diane hiked back up the trail toward their camp. “How was the hike?” he asked when she sat down at the picnic table with Sara.

“Great. It’s refreshing getting away from the city for a little bit.”

“You didn’t go by the lake yet, did you?” Jim asked.

“No, not yet. Wanted to wait for you.”

“What’s at the lake?” Sara asked. 

“That’s where Daddy proposed to Mama,” Jim said.

“What is proposed?”

“It means I asked her to marry me.”

Sara scrunched up her face. “And then you had me, right?”

“And then we had you.” Jim ruffled Sara’s blonde hair. 

Sara got quiet for a moment. “Can we have a baby? I want a baby.”

Jim glanced at Diane, and she forced a thin-lipped smile for her daughter. “Sweetheart, I think it would be nice, but we don’t exactly get to choose if that happens or not.”

“Who chooses?”

“Well, most people can choose, but—”

“It’s like blueberries,” Jim said. “You know how you wanted blueberries for breakfast this morning?”

Sara nodded.

“Well, if we were at home, we could just go to the store and get blueberries, right? But because we’re camping, we can’t. But we might find blueberries while hiking, because they like to grow around here, and that would be a lucky surprise, wouldn’t it?”

“A yummy surprise.”

Jim laughed. “So most people can choose to get blueberries from the store, and most people can choose to have a baby. Some can’t get blueberries, but they might happen upon them by surprise. Just like some people can’t choose a baby, but it might happen by surprise. That’s us. Does that make sense?”

Sara looked back and forth between her parents. “Can I give blueberries to my baby? It will make him come faster.”

 _My baby. Him._ Jim’s heart ached. “Yeah, honey. Why don’t we go hike after dinner and see if we can find some blueberries.”

Diane grabbed his hand, squeezing it. They’d been seeing a specialist for about seven months, and between the appointment waits and cost, they hadn’t gotten very far. Diane passed her tests with flying colors. Jim hadn’t been so lucky. His sperm sample had shown typical sperm count but abnormal shape and movement. The doctor told him not to worry, that they would check him again after three months to be sure, but Jim couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault somehow.

Later, after dinner, the family made their way to the lake. Their lake. Jim wrapped his arms around Diane, kissing her head and holding her for awhile as Sara picked up rocks to throw into the water. Jim kept his eyes trained to the ground for most of their hour-long walk, but they never did happen upon a blueberry bush.

***

A couple weeks later, Jim found himself sitting on Sara’s bed, rubbing circles on her back as he tried to soothe her back to sleep after a particularly scary nightmare. “Shh, it’s okay, honey,” Jim said. “I’m right here.” He laid down behind her, blanketing her with his arm until he heard her steady breathing. He peeled himself from her, sliding inch-by-inch toward the end of the bed, standing and tip-toeing out of the room.

“She asleep?” Diane asked from the couch as she watched the evening news.

“Yeah. Finally.” Jim glanced toward the kitchen. “Hey, I’m gonna do the dishes, okay?”

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but that’s fine.”

Jim had been consciously trying to do more to help Diane out, and it seemed to be improving their relationship. After he’d finished cleaning the kitchen, he rifled through the cabinets, pouring two glasses of wine and carrying them over to where Diane sat.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking a glass.

They’d just finished their drinks and Jim had gone back for seconds when everything went dark.

“What just happened?” he asked.

“Don’t know. Black out?”

Jim continued to sip at his wine when he heard noises outside. He walked over to the window, peering through the blinds. “Hey, Diane. Come here.” They both watched as the streets crowded with people, those trying to get home and others exiting their homes to see what was going on. Police sirens sounded in the distance. 

“You should probably go in,” Diane said. “I’m guessing it’s mandated.”

Jim looked at his then empty wine glass, then back up at his wife. “Um, maybe not the best idea?”

“Jim, you’ll get in trouble.”

“I can just pretend I was already asleep and go in tomorrow as normal.”

“If you get yourself fired over this—”

“I won’t.”

Diane fanned herself. “It’s already getting hot in here. Should we open the windows?”

“All that noise is probably gonna wake Sara again.”

“Mama! Daddy!” came a little cry from Sara’s room. 

“I think it might be a little late for that,” Diane said.

Jim headed in, sitting on her bed. “Hey, Princess. What’s the matter?”

“Why are the people outside? They’re being loud.”

“All the lights went out, so they must think it’s a party.”

“A party? Can we go?” Sara was suddenly more awake than a three-year-old should be at ten o’clock at night.

“Honey, I don’t think so. You need to sleep.” He groaned as the sound of someone’s boom box carried through the closed window.

Diane appeared in the doorway. “It’s okay. What’s one night?”

Jim eyed his wife, half a smirk appearing on his face. “Is this Adventurous Diane? Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Shut up, Jim.” She smiled. “Could be fun. Let’s go.”

With Sara in her jammies, they made their way down the apartment steps and into the street where their neighbors congregated. “Daddy, dance!” Sara yelled as she jumped up and down. Jim took her hand, spinning her around and moving with her as Diane looked on, covering her hand over her smile. Jim picked Sara up, bouncing from side to side, mouthing the words of the song to his daughter.

 

“Now once, I was down hearted

Disappointment, was my closest friend

But then you, came and it soon departed

And you know he never

Showed his face again

 

That’s why your love

Keep on lifting

Higher

Higher and higher

I said your love

Keep on

Lifting me

Higher and higher”

 

Sara grinned, never taking her eyes off Jim and he off of hers. Finally, at the end of the song, he did a dramatic twirl and leaned her all the way back and upside down, prompting shrieks and giggles.

The night wore on, an hour passed, when Stevie Wonder’s _Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours_ erupted through the boom box. Jim grabbed Diane’s hip, pulling her in close. “Care to dance?”

Their hips met as Diane threw her arms over Jim’s shoulders and they swayed to the music in the summer heat.

“Here I am, baby,” Diane mouthed.

“Signed, sealed, delivered I’m yours,” Jim mouthed back.

Soon after, Jim carried a sleeping Sara back up the apartment steps and back inside, placing her in bed. He and Diane set to work opening all the windows to get a breeze going, making their way to their bedroom.

With the music still blasting and police sirens wailing in the distance, Jim and Diane made love, sweat dripping off their bodies as they moved together.

The power in their Upper West Side neighborhood came back on the next morning, but it wasn't until the following evening that all power was restored to the city. When Jim went into work, he learned that many neighborhoods, particularly in Brooklyn, had suffered looting and arson. Nine months after the blackout, the city experienced a small baby boom. Diane and Jim had mostly given up at that point.


	12. Life Flies By In Seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back! I'm posting the next chapter tonight, as well.

**Spring 1978**  

_Life flies by in seconds_  
_You're not a baby Gracie, you're my friend_  
_You'll be a lady soon but until then_  
_You gotta do what I say_

_You nodded off in my arms watching TV_  
_I won't move you an inch even thought my arm's asleep_

_One day you're gonna want to go_  
_I hope we taught you everything you need to know_  
_Gracie girl_

_And there will always be a part of me_  
_Nobody else is ever gonna see but you and me_  
_My little girl_  
_My Gracie girl_  

  _-Ben Folds_

“Have any fun plans for the weekend?” Bill asked Jim at the police station.

“Taking Sara to the planetarium. She’s got this newfound interest in anything space, so I figured she’s old enough to go and understand some things.”

“Four, right?”

“Yeah. What about you? What’re you up to?”

“Working,” Bill said.

“Commissioner put you on weekend, huh? What’s your family up to?”

“Um, Catherine’s taking the girls to go see her parents upstate.”

“Ah, and you’re avoiding the in-laws by telling them you have to work?” Jim smirked.

“I mean, yeah. They can’t be too happy with me right now, because I just asked Catherine for a divorce.”

“Hold up, really? I thought you two were solid. What happened?”

“Not as solid as we made ourselves out to be. Uh, how do I put this? I’m attracted to her physically, but I’m just not getting anything out of our relationship intellectually, you know? For awhile, it didn’t bother me, but it’s starting to bother me more, and I don’t want to end up resenting her and have my girls deal with that. Unfortunately, I think Catherine’s going to resent me for leaving, if she doesn’t already.”

Jim ran his hand down his face. “Well, shit. I’m sorry. Won’t Catherine have to get a job, then?”

“Yeah, I thought about that. But at some point, that’s not my concern. I can’t burden myself with that. You and Diane still doing all right?”

“Yeah,” Hopper said, thinking. “Besides the regular ups and downs, you know.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, at least.”

When Jim got home, Sara met him at the door. “Daddy!” She wrapped her arms around him.

“Hey, Princess. How was your day?”

“Great. Mommy and I went to the park, and we got books from the library.”

“Sounds wonderful, kiddo.” Jim walked into the kitchen to greet his wife, giving her a brief kiss. “Hey, hon. How was your day?”

“Really nice,” she said as she pulled pork chops from the oven. “It was beautiful out. What about you?”

“Bill and Catherine are getting a divorce,” Hopper murmured into Diane’s hair. 

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no! That’s terrible!”

“What’s terrible?” Sara called from the other room.

“Nothing, honey! Grown up talk.” She turned back to Jim. “What happened?”

“He said something about not being attracted to her anymore.”

Diane rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s typical.”

“No, not like that. He’s not attracted to her intellect or some such.”

Diane knitted her eyebrows together, taking pause. “Oh.” She shook her head. “Well, that’s still too bad for Catherine and the girls. Anyway, we probably shouldn’t talk about this with little ears listening to every word we say.”

Jim turned to find Sara staring at them. He walked over to where she sat on the floor and squatted down in front of her. “Hey. You excited to go to the planetarium tomorrow?”

“Yes!” she said, bouncing up and down on her bottom and balling her hands into fists.

“Me, too.” He ruffled her hair, smiling.

The next day, Sara woke Jim bright and early by jumping into bed and pouncing on him. He grunted, rolling onto his back to find his daughter. “Hey. You know it’s early, right?”

“I want to go to the planetarium!”

“It’s not even open yet.”

Diane rolled over to face them. “Mm, what’s going on?”

“Sara’s too excited to sleep. It’s like it’s Christmas or something.”

“Honey, you need to go back to sleep for a bit,” Diane said.

“I can’t!”

“I’ll get up with her,” Hopper said, groaning as he got out of bed. He led Sara out into the other room. “I’m gonna make breakfast. Any particular request?”

Sara thought for a moment. “Cereal.”

“Easy is good.” He poured two bowls of Cheerios, throwing blueberries in for good measure, before adding the milk and spoon. He sat down at the table across from his daughter.

“Your hair looks funny, Daddy.”

“Yeah, well, waking me up at six a.m. will do that.”

Sara slurped the milk off of her spoon and plucked the blueberries out one by one.

“You gotta eat more than blueberries and milk,” Hopper said, but Sara shook her head.

“I’m full.”

“How?”

Sara shrugged.

“Well I guess one day of not eating a very balanced breakfast won’t hurt you. I imagine you’ll be starving by lunchtime, though.”

Jim and Sara spent the next couple hours reading books about space, painting space, and even pretending to be astronauts. Finally, the pair headed out, Sara running ahead of Jim down the stairs.

When they got to the planetarium, Sara’s eyes grew wide as she peered at all the displays in front of her. In one section, she and Jim walked underneath giant models of the planets suspended from the ceiling. Sara named them all. Another exhibit boasted a life-size model of Neil Armstrong, and Jim read the plaque to Sara about the first man on the moon. A few feet over, she got to dress like an astronaut. They followed a wall full of pictures and information on topics like asteroids, comets, and black holes. Finally, they got to experience the dome, and as the lights went out and constellations flashed on the ceiling while the presenter shared about the myths behind the constellations, Sara remained still, not a peep. Jim didn’t pay too much attention to the speech, amused by his daughter’s interest as he stole glances at her, smirking.

When the presentation ended, they passed the gift shop on the way out, and Jim watched as Sara gazed longingly at a book of constellations in the window. He knelt down next to her. “Hey, whaddaya say we go in and see how much that book costs?” Sara smiled hopefully at Jim, but then her face fell. “What’s the matter?” Jim asked.

“I know you and Mommy have no money,” Sara said.

“Oh, honey, where did you get that idea?”

“You talked about it. I heard you.”

 _She’s too smart for her own good_ , Jim reflected. “Well, Princess, we have _some_ money, and I think some of it should be used to get you that book.”

Sara squealed, bouncing up and down. Jim took her by the hand into the gift shop and purchased the book, a bit more expensive than he expected, but the excitement in Sara’s eyes made it all worth it.

Two weeks later, Diane spent the weekend with her sister, so Jim took Sara on a road trip as far away from the city as he could realistically drive in one go. They stopped at a campground, put up their tent, and waited for the sun to go down. Jim didn’t even start a fire, laying their sleeping bags out on the ground right next to each other. When the sky finally grew dark enough, he and Sara laid on top of their sleeping bags, Sara nestled into the crook of Jim’s arm. The sky didn’t have a cloud in it as they gazed at the stars. Jim hadn’t seen that many stars since his childhood in Indiana.

“I see the Big Dipper,” Jim said, pointing.

“But Daddy, the Big Dipper is not a constellation.”

“R-right, I never said it was,” Jim said. He had thought it was.

“It is part of Ursa Major. See?” She pointed out the rest of the constellation. “It’s the big bear, and Ursa Minor is the little bear.”

“Do you see Ursa Minor?”

Sara didn’t say anything for a minute, then let out a little gasp, pointing. “There.” She pointed again. “I see Leo.”

“What’s Leo, again?” Jim knew. He’d read Sara’s book to her over and over, but he wanted to hear her explain it.

“Leo’s a lion, Daddy. Hercules killed him, because he was keeping all the pretty ladies in his lair, and Hercules didn’t like that.”

Jim chuckled. “How did you get so smart?”

Sara looked at him. “Books, Daddy. Books make you smart,” she said, as if it were the most simple answer in the world.

He squeezed her shoulder. “They sure do. Well, the mosquitoes are biting, so why don’t we take our sleeping bags into the tent and put on our flashlights, eat junk food, and tell scary stories?”

“But not too scary,” Sara added.

“Yep. Not too scary.”


	13. How To Disappear Completely

**Spring 1979**

_I walk through walls_  
_I float down the Liffey_  
_I'm not here_  
_This isn't happening_  
_I'm not here_  
_I'm not here_

_-Radiohead_

Sara sat at the plastic kids’ table she used for coloring and arts and crafts. With her brow furrowed and tongue stuck out, she drew a big red and blue house with stick figures side by side. Jim knelt down beside her and put a hand on her back. “Tell me about it, honey.”

“That’s you and Mommy and me, and that’s our house,” she explained gleefully.

“But we live in an apartment,” Jim said.

“I know, but I want to live in a house sometime. A house with a backyard and a swing set. Oh! And a dog.”

Hopper smiled. “Maybe some day.”

Sara beamed. Her blue eyes gazed up at her father with complete trust and adoration.

Later that evening, Diane sat down next to Jim on the couch after putting Sara to bed. “I sure could go for a glass of wine.”

“Lucky for you, I picked some up on the way home from work,” Jim said. He got up, pouring a couple glasses before returning to the couch. “So, I know we’ve talked about it before, but what do you think about moving out to the suburbs? I could transfer jobs and we could buy a house. Sara will be starting school in the fall, and perhaps it’d be best for her out there, not in the city.”

Diane sighed. “That sounds nice. It really does. But how can we afford it? We don’t have any money saved right now.”

“Maybe your parents could lend us a downpayment? Or perhaps we could finance the whole thing? I just think it’s important that Sara goes to one of the best schools, and we both know we can’t afford a private school in the city.”

“Why now?” Diane asked. “We probably don’t have enough time between now and Sara starting kindergarten.”

“We can start looking right away. I don’t care if it’s tiny or a fixer-upper. It’ll be our first real home. What do you say?” He looked at her, eyes pleading.

Diane grinned at his goofy face. “Okay, fine. Let’s do it. Let’s buy a house.” Hopper lifted her up, spinning and kissing her. “Oh my god, Jim. Put me down!” Diane said.

“I’m just really happy.”

***

The Hopper family found their future house on a beautiful May day. The sun shone, and the temperature had risen to a mild sixty-two degrees, the perfect weather for light jackets. Jim, Diane, and Sara had just gone to see a few houses in the suburbs and had fallen in love with one. It was a small, two story with two bedrooms and needed some work, but it was a bargain. They stopped by a park close to the house to get a feel for the neighborhood.

“I think this one’s it,” Diane said to Jim. “Sara can learn how to ride a bike without us worrying she’d get hit by a car. There are several kids her age on the block.”

“We can put up a fence for the backyard and get a dog.” Hopper grinned.

“Already thinking about a dog, are we?”

“Well, yeah. Sara wants one, and she didn’t get that sibling she wanted.”

Diane touched Hopper’s arm. “Okay, fine. I’m so glad you talked me into this. Let’s call the realtor when we get home.”

“Daddy! Chase me!” Sara called. He sprinted after her as she ran away, squealing. She ran in a giant circle and back toward her mother.

“A troll’s favorite food, brains! Roasted brains with paprika and gravy!” Jim caught up to her, lifting her into the air, growling and pretending to eat her belly.

Sara giggled. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

Jim didn’t notice the look in her eyes right away. Not until Sara stilled, gasping for air. He frowned, stopping his game. “Oh, hey. Hey. You all right?”

“What’s going on?” Diane asked. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know.” Jim set Sara down, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, you all right?” Jim felt helpless as his daughter continued to wheeze with each short breath, eyes blown wide. He gripped her arms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, relax, relax. Honey, honey. Honey, honey. Just breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. In and out. Slow, slow, slow, slow.” He showed her how he wanted her to inhale and exhale. “In and out with me. In and out. In and out.” After a minute of continuing with this pattern, Sara relaxed and began breathing more regularly, so Jim lifted her up, wrapping her in his arms, as he rushed to their car, Diane close behind. 

When they made it back to the city and checked into the emergency room, Jim and Diane waited for hours while the doctors ran test after test. Jim paced the hallway, scrubbing his face with his hands, until Diane came out and touched his shoulder. “Hey. We don’t know what they’re going to say. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s croup or something.”

“If it were croup, they wouldn’t be running so many tests.”

“I’m just trying to stay positive.”

“I know.” He pulled her into a tight hug.

“Sara wants you back in the room.”

Jim nodded and followed Diane, sitting in the chair next to Sara’s bed. “How you doing, Princess?”

“I’m tired, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you take a little nap, then?”

The doctor visited while Sara slept. He sat down across from Jim and Diane, frowning. “We’ve gotten the results of Sara’s blood tests, and her white blood cell count is extremely low. Her liver and spleen also appear enlarged, so we’d like to do an ultrasound to confirm. Has your daughter exhibited any of the following symptoms: fatigue, dizziness, feeling cold, fevers or infections, bruising, unusual bleeding, weight loss, appetite loss, night sweats, or pain anywhere else in the body?”

Jim looked on, mouth opening and shutting, nothing coming out, so Diane took over. “Nothing that’s seemed too out of the ordinary. She’s been sick a lot this past winter, more than most, but I just attributed that to germs and her first year in preschool. She’s always been a tiny kid, but I don’t think she’s lost weight. She does complain of being cold a lot, and she has had quite a few bruises, but she’s a kid. She falls down.”

The doctor nodded, taking notes on his clipboard. “I’d like to take her for the ultrasound now.”

“But she’s sleeping,” Jim said. “Can’t you wait until she wakes up?”

“It has to be done now.”

“Sweetie, wake up,” Diane said, gently shaking her daughter’s arm. “The doctor has to take you to run a test.”

The doctor held out his hand to Sara. “Can you come with me, sweetheart?” She slid out of bed and took it, tentatively, as Jim stood to follow them.

“I’m afraid you have to stay here,” the doctor said.

“Daddy! I’m scared!” Sara said, reaching out for Jim. She let go of the doctor’s hand and raced into her father’s arms as he held her tightly.

“It’s okay, honey. It’ll be super fast, and we’ll be right here when you get back.”

She nodded, fighting the tears in her eyes. Jim could tell she was trying to be strong for him, and it broke his heart. She slid back down to the floor and followed the doctor out into the hall.

By the day’s end, Jim and Diane still hadn’t been told much. The doctor visited once more, stating that he’d like to keep Sara overnight and complete a bone marrow biopsy in the morning. Jim followed him out into the hall as he was leaving. “Be straight with me, Doc,” he said as he closed the door so that Diane and Sara couldn’t hear. “What’re you thinking this is?”

“With her trouble breathing, enlarged organs, low white blood cell count, and all the details your wife gave me, I’m strongly suspecting leukemia. I won’t know for sure until I do that biopsy tomorrow.”

Jim’s head spun. “Leukemia? Like cancer?”

“I’m afraid so. I hope I’m wrong.”

“So, if you’re wrong, what else might it be?”

The doctor looked down before placing a hand on Jim’s shoulder and looking back up at him. “This is really just to confirm. There’s a possibility it could be mono…but that’s if you twisted my arm. It’s not looking likely at this point.”

Jim nodded silently. The hallway narrowed and his vision darkened. All he wanted was to get away from this doctor. He fumbled, somehow finding the door handle, and pushed his way back into Sara’s room, sitting down next to Diane.

“What did the doctor say?” she whispered to Jim.

He stared at the wall in front of him. “Could be mono.”

“Mono? Like the kissing virus?” She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Well that’s nothing!”

“I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” Jim headed for the door.

“Jim, there’s a bathroom in here.”

“I know, I just—” He left the room once more. As Jim stumbled through the hallway to the nearest restroom, he shut himself into a stall. His chest constricted, his breaths shallow. Then the dry heaving began. His eyes burned as tears ran down his face, a reflex of the gagging. When he exited the stall, he turned the faucet on as cold as it would go and splashed the water onto his face. 

 _But it could be mono_ , he told himself. _Maybe. Just maybe._ Jim found his way back to Sara’s room.

“What the hell, Jim?” Diane whispered as he sat back down. “Why did you leave?”

“I wanted to get a snack from the vending machine. That’s all.”

“I thought you said you had to go to the bathroom.”

“That, too.”

She folded her arms. “Just don’t be weird with me, okay?”

“Okay.” He put his arm around her, glancing at Sara. “I’d say it’s time for bed, honey. It’s getting pretty late.”

“Where are you and Mommy sleeping?” she asked.

“Right here in the room with you, of course. One of us on the couch, and maybe they’ll bring another rolling bed in here.”

They didn’t, so Jim let Diane have the couch, and he tried to sleep sitting up in one of the chairs.It didn’t work out too well. Sara must’ve woken at the same time he did, because when he looked over at her at two a.m., she lied on her side, watching him. “Hey, honey. Why are you up?”

She just shrugged her shoulders.

“You miss your own bed?”

She nodded. “And my bedtime story.”

“That’s right. I don’t have any books here, but you want me to tell you a story from my head?”

Sara nodded again.

“Well, here, scootch over.” Jim climbed into bed with Sara, careful not to disturb the tube of air clipped to her nostrils or the heart rate monitor attached to her chest. “Once there was a little girl named Sara. She really wanted to go on an adventure, so one day, she took her dog Spot and headed into the great outdoors with nothing but a pack on her back.” He continued the story until Sara’s eyelids grew heavy and her head rested firmly on his shoulder. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, the sun shone through the window and one of the nurses checked Sara’s vitals. 

“Just one more test, sweetheart, and then you’ll get to go home,” Diane said.

“Don’t say that,” Jim said.

“Why not? You said it was mono.”

“I said it _might_ be mono.”

“But if it’s not mono, then what?”

Jim said nothing, staring at the floor.

“Jim! What aren’t you telling me?”

Just then, the doctor walked in. “It’s time for the biopsy. We’re going to sedate her here, then transfer her to another room to do the actual biopsy, which should only take about ten minutes. Then, she’ll come back here with you to wait for the sedation to wear off.”

Hopper climbed out of the bed, and he and Diane held Sara’s hands as the nurse put the mask on her. The anesthesia overtook her in a matter of seconds. Once the nurses wheeled her out of the room, Diane turned to Jim. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

Jim took a deep breath. “The doctor told me it could be mono…”

“Or?”

“…or…leukemia.”

Diane gasped, eyes welling up as she hit Jim’s shoulder.

“Hey, what the hell?”

“Don’t you _ever_ fucking lie to me again! I have a right to know just as much as you do!” Diane burst into tears. 

“I—I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you.”

“Don’t you think I’d find out eventually?”

“Part of me hoped it really was mono,” Jim said, his shoulders sagging.

“Wait—so, it’s—it’s _not_ mono? Or it still might be? What did the doctor actually say, Jim? Please!”

“He said the biopsy is just to confirm leukemia, and when I pushed him, he threw mono out as a last hope.”

Diane said nothing, staring at her hands.

“Say something. Please,” Jim said, touching her shoulder.

“If I say something, it’ll be something I’ll regret. I need to be alone. Please leave.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“But Sara—she’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“ _Leave_.”

Jim got up without saying another word and left. He paced the waiting room, and when about twenty minutes had passed, he headed back to the hospital room, hoping Diane had cooled off a bit. There, he found Sara, sleeping in her bed, Diane by her side. Jim sat on the other side of Sara, rubbing her arm. “She’s still pretty out of it, huh?” Diane ignored him. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I meant well. I didn’t know how to react, myself.”

Diane met his eyes. “Jim. You’re upset. I know. But we’re a team. And if you can’t keep up your end with something so hugely important, how am I going to trust you? Please tell me this is the only time you’ve kept something like this from me.”

“Yes,” Jim lied. “The only time.”

Diane nodded. “Okay. Never again.”

“Did the doctor say—”

“They’re going to keep her here because of the breathing scare. Don’t want to send her home. They’re hoping to have results in tomorrow, but it could be two days.”

Although Jim didn’t believe in a higher power, he spent the rest of the day pleading with whoever might be out there, just in case, that they might spare Sara. _She’s just a kid. Special. Will do good in the world someday._ They could have him instead, if they needed someone.

Sara woke gradually, and Jim and Diane urged her to eat and drink, which she didn’t feel like doing. She cried a lot, the anesthesia making her cranky. Jim cuddled her in bed while she bawled into his shoulder.

Diane took a turn sleeping next to Sara that night, so Jim slept on the couch. He tossed and turned, dreaming of chasing Sara through fields of flowers as she giggled, only to have her stop, unable to breathe. Jim would lift her into his arms, spinning in circles helplessly and yelling for assistance, but nothing was around, and no one ever came.

The next day, Sara complained of stomach pain. The doctors gave her medicine to help her sleep. Jim and Diane spent the day waiting around, mostly in silence, until finally, at around three p.m., the on-call doctor came in to see them.

Sara still slept as the doctor pulled up a chair and flipped through the papers on his clipboard, clearing his throat. “We’ve gotten the test results back, and I’m afraid it’s bad news. Sara has leukemia.”

“Oh, god,” Diane cried as she buried herself into Jim’s shoulder.

“But—but we can make her better, right?” Jim asked. “There’s chemo and treatments and stuff, right?”

“It’s complicated. So Sara has the most common type of leukemia. It’s called Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, which is a type of blood cancer. It starts in the white blood cells and can spread to other parts of the body. Unfortunately, it’s already spread to Sara’s lungs, liver, and spleen. It doesn’t produce tumors like other types of cancer, so what we’re going to do is move Sara to the children’s cancer ward here in the hospital and start chemotherapy right away, with the goal to kill as many of the cancer cells as possible.”

“And what’s the prognosis?” Hopper choked.

“There’s always a chance. It’s pretty advanced, though. We’ll see how she does with the first round of chemo. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news.” The doctor got up and left the room.

Jim’s head reeled from shock. Even though he’d heard what the doctor told him the previous day in the hallway, it didn’t feel real until this doctor spoke it into existence. The advanced stage diagnosis caught him completely off guard. He hadn’t seen it coming. Diane said nothing, quietly sobbing into Jim’s shirt. “It’ll be okay,” he assured her. “She’ll get better. I promise.”


	14. I Will Fix You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter borrows from another fic I wrote, The Hospital.

**Summer 1979**

 

 

_When you try your best but you don't succeed_  
_When you get what you want but not what you need_  
_When you feel so tired but you can't sleep_  
_Stuck in reverse_

_When the tears come streaming down your face_  
_'Cause you lose something you can't replace_  
_When you love someone but it goes to waste_  
_What could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home_  
_And ignite your bones_  
_And I will try to fix you_

_-Coldplay_

A month had passed since Sara’s diagnosis. She experienced her first round of chemo, causing her to vomit repeatedly and her blonde curls to fall out in clumps. Diane brought shears to the hospital, cutting Sara’s hair to the scalp to make the loss less jarring for her. Her hands and feet always felt cold to the touch, and when she didn’t feel sick, she slept a lot. Still, Sara remained brave.

Jim had to go back to work, as much as he despised it. They needed the money. Diane spent most of her time at the hospital, but even she needed breaks from all the beeping machines and doctors. She and Jim began taking shifts. When Jim got off work, he headed for the hospital, and that’s when Diane went home. Jim slept on the pull out couch in Sara’s room, getting up early to go into work as Diane met him back at the hospital each morning. This meant that, for several weeks, they hadn’t connected. Not really. They’d spend some time together in the hospital on the weekends, but not much. And neither ever wanted to leave Sara alone. So they did the best they could, playing t _ag, you’re it_ so that at least one of them could go home and shower or get a nap in a real bed.

“Daddy, will you read to me?”

“Huh?” Jim asked, blood-shot eyes rising to meet his daughter’s. “Yes—yeah, of course, honey. What would you like me to read?”

“The dolphin book,” Sara said.

“Dolphins, huh? I thought for sure it would be the space book.”

“Not today. Today, it’s dolphins.”

Jim stood, shuffling through the pile of books on the bedside table until he got to one with a mother dolphin and its baby on the front cover. “Found it. Scootch over, kid.” He climbed into the hospital bed next to Sara. She shifted, then snuggled up close against him as he began reading. “You might think that dolphins are fish, but they are actually mammals, just like humans.” 

Sara breathed out a sigh as he read. Before the diagnosis, she would have been talking a mile a minute, asking questions and making observations. For all she’d gone through, she’d been in fairly good spirits, but Jim could tell she was tired. Who wouldn’t be? The doctors. The tests. The probing. The chemo. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Are you okay, Daddy?”

“You’ve been through the ringer, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Jim chuckled. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.” He rubbed her bald head, kissing it. 

“How about I read to you then?”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he said, handing the book over.

Sara struggled through most of the words, and truth be told, telling her every other word was more exhausting than simply reading the book. Sara thought she was helping, though, and that’s what counted. He beamed with pride at every word she read correctly. Most five-year-olds couldn’t read, right? He didn’t think he could read at that age. How did she get to be so smart?

Sara stopped, closing the book and placing it on her lap.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked.

“I’m tired, Daddy. The room feels wobbly.”

“You feel dizzy?”

“Yeah.”

“Here,” he said, handing Sara a cup of water with a straw. “Take a drink, then close your eyes and take a nap.”

“But I just took a nap.”

“I know, but maybe it’ll help.”

Sara paused. “Will you stay with me?”

Jim lifted his head off the back of the raised bed, grasping her hand. “Of course, honey. I would never leave you.”

“You do when Mommy gets here.”

He swallowed hard. “That’s different. I have to go to work so we can pay the bills. Believe me, if I could, I wouldn’t ever leave this room.” He turned away from Sara, leaning off the bed and rustling through one of the many bags left on the floor. “I just remembered, I brought something for you. But it’s powerful and mighty. Do you think you can handle it?”

Sara nodded at him, wide-eyed.

Jim pulled his arm up slowly, revealing the face, then the body of a stuffed tiger.

Sara’s nose crinkled as her face lit up. 

He held the tiger up to his ear, nodding, as if listening. “Uh huh. Okay.” He turned to his daughter. “He says he’s a magic tiger. Stronger than all these bad feelings. Stronger than the yucky drugs. Stronger than the sick in your body. He tells me that you’re a brave little girl and that he wants to be brave with you. When you’re together, even if Mommy and Daddy can’t be with you, he’ll help keep you strong. How does that sound?”

A smile appeared on Sara’s lips as she nodded, reaching out for the animal. 

“I love you, honey. You’re the bravest, smartest, kindest, most wonderful girl I know. We’ll get through this. We’re gonna fix you.”

Sara just gazed up at her Daddy, then closed her eyes, hugging the tiger under her arm, snug and safe in Jim’s side. Soon, he heard a faint snore, and only then did he let a few tears fall from his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

A few days later, while Jim took his evening shift at the hospital, the on-call doctor came in, flipping through his papers. “How are we today, Sara?”

“Fine.”

“Good to hear.” He looked up at Jim. “It’s been a month since Sara was admitted, so we’re going to run the same tests we did at the beginning to see if the chemo is working.”

“What happens if it’s working? Or if…” He trailed off.

“If it’s working, we keep doing what we’re doing. Another round of chemo in a week. If not…It really all depends on how much it’s progressed. If it’s stayed the same, we find a different form of chemo. If it’s progressed, we’ll have to talk about the next step, because it could be a number of things.”

“And when will these tests take place?” Jim asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Doc.” As soon as the doctor left, Jim picked up the phone and dialed Diane to tell her the news. Then, he called work to tell them he couldn’t come in the next day.

The next morning, Diane arrived at the hospital, giving Jim a brief kiss. She gripped his hand tightly as she sat next to him on the couch. “You ready?”

“No.”

“Me neither."

Sara had been poked and prodded so much, she didn’t complain, anymore. So when the nurses came to take several vials of blood, she didn’t even flinch. Jim noticed how pale she’d gotten, and she’d already been fair to begin with.

After the blood draws, they took her for the bone biopsy and ultrasound. With Sara gone, Diane laid her head on Jim’s shoulder. “How’ve you been? I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“I know, right?” Jim turned to her, cupping her face and kissing her deeply. “I’ve missed you.”

“Same.” She paused, looking contemplative. “What do you think the results will say? I mean, Sara’s just been so sick. It’s hard to know just by looking at her. I just want everything to go back to normal, you know?”

Jim wrapped his arm around her, gripping her shoulder, and kissed the top of her head. “I know.”

Eventually, the nurses wheeled Sara back into the room, still out from the anesthesia. Jim and Diane knew they wouldn’t have the results for at least a day, so in that moment, they sat in each other’s company, waiting for their daughter to wake up.

The next day, Jim sat at his work desk, zoning out. He knew Diane could call at any time, so he’d told his boss that he needed to work from the station. The commissioner had been fairly accommodating to all of Jim’s requests, but he still worried that he asked too much, or that he’d be fired on a whim like Diane was.

A little while later, his phone rang, startling him. He jumped, picking up the receiver. “Hello?” he said, voice shaky.

“Jim! It’s working!”

Jim dropped the phone for a brief second, snatching it back up by its dangling cord. “Diane? Are you still there? Did I hear you right? It’s working?”

“Yes! Her tests came back a little better than before. Not a dramatic improvement, but it’s something, sweetheart. We have hope!”

Jim pursed his lips, breaking into a shaky smile. “I can’t believe it. I thought—”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m going to call my parents and tell them the news, and I’m going to ask if one of them can stay with Sara for a night. So you and I can get some time together.”

“That sounds great.”

“Oh—The nurse just came in again. I’m going to go, and I’ll call my parents and call you back and let you know what’s happening.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Diane said. “Bye.”

***

They couldn’t afford it, and they knew that. But at that point, they were swimming in hospital debt, so what was one dinner out?

Jim and Diane walked into a nice Italian restaurant. They shared a bottle of wine, soon finding themselves smiling and even laughing. Jim couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly laughed. Sometime before Sara entered the hospital, he knew that for sure. After dinner, he and Diane walked down the street, holding hands. And when they finally made it back to their apartment, Jim leaned down, kissing Diane’s collarbone, moving up her neck before meeting her mouth with his. They stumbled to their bed, one they hadn’t shared in at least three weeks.

As they peeled each other’s clothes off, piece by piece, Jim laid Diane on the bed positioning himself between her legs. Feeling generous, he took his time kissing her entire body. When he pulled Diane on top of him and entered her, he watched every face she made, wanting to memorize it. Their tribulation would only be temporary, a moment captured on camera in the midst of many others. Sara would get better. Even though they’d lost the house they hoped for, they’d find another. Sara would go to school, graduate, and have a family of her own one day.

But right then, his beautiful wife moved against him, making these silly, little open mouth faces as her eyes rolled, and Jim felt grateful. No, nothing in his life had ever been perfect, even downright shitty at times, but his family kept him going.

Jim would never see his wife naked again.

 


	15. I Won't Say Goodbye

**Summer 1979**

_Take my hand, stay Joanne_   
_Heaven's not_   
_Ready for you_   
_Every part_   
_Of my aching heart_   
_Needs you more_   
_Than the angels do_

_If you could_   
_I know that you'd stay_   
_We both know_   
_Things don't work that way_   
_I promised I_   
_Wouldn't say goodbye_   
_So I grin_   
_And my voice gets thin_

_Girl_   
_Where do you think you're goin'?_   
_Where do you think you're goin'?_   
_Goin', girl?_

_-Lady Gaga_

Jim sat in the chemotherapy room with Sara a week later for her second round of treatment. She relaxed in a comfy chair, her books at hand, and the stuffed tiger she’d named Mr. Stripey tucked into her arm. One of the nurses greeted them and started the process of running the drugs through an IV and into her vein. Jim hated this part most of all. The drugs made Sara so sick. So weak. But he knew for her to get better, she had to endure this process.

Everything ran smoothly for the first thirty minutes. Jim read a few stories to Sara. She didn’t say much, just listened, her gaunt eyes scanning the book he held in front of her. 

“Daddy?” she said during _Little Red Riding Hood_. 

“Yeah, Princess?”

“I don’t feel good.”

“I know, but these drugs will make you feel better. Eventually.”

Sara nodded, so Jim kept reading until she interrupted him again. “Something feels bad.”

“I know. It all feels bad right now and will for awhile. Listen to the book.” He continued the story for a couple pages, but when he glanced at her next, she stared at the far wall, eyes wide in fright before she slumped forward. 

“Doctor! I need a doctor!” Jim yelled, leaping out of his chair, knocking it over. A nurse rushed over, then turned around and told another nurse to call the doctor and the emergency department.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked, heart thumping out of his chest. “What’s happening to my girl?”

“We don’t know, sir, but the doctor’s on his way,” the nurse said. She pulled the IV out to stop the drug.

The doctor arrived at the same time as the EMTs with a gurney. Jim couldn’t focus, picking up bits of talk here and there. _Allergic reaction._ _Emergency room_. Jim wanted to scream.

“Are you the father?” one of the EMTs asked, and Jim nodded. They placed Sara on the bed and rushed her out of the room and to the elevator as the doctor followed.

“I—I need to go with her,” Jim said.

“I know, sir,” the nurse said. “Just go to the emergency room and speak to the front desk. They’ll tell you where to go.”

Jim got lost on his way downstairs, but he finally made it, and a nurse led him to a room where Sara lay, unconscious. Her face had swollen up, eyelids puffed out. Jim turned toward the door, ready to find the nearest medical worker, when the doctor from upstairs walked in.

“Mr. Hopper.” He nodded toward him in greeting.

“Please—What’s wrong with my girl?” Jim choked.

“We’ve got her stabilized. Please, sit down.”

But he couldn’t. At that point, he ran on enough adrenaline to tear the room apart. “No, I’m good standing.”

“Okay, then. Sara had an allergic reaction to the chemotherapy drug. We’ve given her a drug to counteract the chemo and a drug to treat the allergic reaction.”

“Why isn’t she awake?” Jim breathed heavily, eyes wild, and he realized he must’ve looked crazy. He didn’t care.

“We also gave her a drug to knock her out.”

“But she’s had this chemo before, and she was fine.”

“Sometimes patients develop an allergic reaction later on, after the first, second, or even third round.”

“So what does this mean for her treatment?”

“We’re going to have to use a different drug,” the doctor said. 

Jim’s ears began ringing, and he just wanted the doctor to leave so he could be alone with his daughter.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Yeah,” Jim barked. “I’m fine. I need to call my wife."

The doctor pointed. “There’s a phone on the table for you right there. I’m going back up to the cancer center, and I’ll return to check on Sara in a bit.”

When he left, Jim finally sat down, burying his head in his hands. _This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening._ He lifted the receiver off the hook, listening to the dial tone. Diane had been sick with a cold, the reason she couldn’t be there for Sara’s chemo, and Jim knew she was probably sleeping. He wanted so badly to hang up the phone, to avoid sharing the bad news with his wife, who couldn’t even come see Sara for fear of compromising her almost non-existent immune system. But he remembered what happened the last time he kept something from Diane. So he dialed the number. 

“Hello?” Diane said, a bit groggy.

“Diane? It’s Jim—”

“Jim? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sara—she—she had an allergic reaction. To the chemo. She’s okay, but she’s in the emergency room.”

Diane burst into tears, crying so loudly that Jim had to hold the receiver away from his ear. “She’ll be okay, hon.”

“But I can’t be there! She needs me, and I can’t be there!”

“I know.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

When Diane had finally calmed enough to talk, she asked the question Jim hoped she wouldn’t. Not yet. “If she’s allergic to this drug,” she said between sniffles, “what’s going to happen?”

Jim paused. “She needs to have a different drug.”

A long silence ensued, and Jim had to check to make sure they weren’t disconnected.

“I’m here. I just—One week ago. You know? One week of hope.”

“There’s still hope. If the first drug worked, this one can, too. Maybe better.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Get some rest, hon. You need to get well so you can come see her.”

“All right. I’ll try. I love you. Tell Sara I love her so much."

“I will.”

***

The heart rate monitor beeped, a sound Jim had nearly forgotten, it had become so commonplace in his life. He lay next to his daughter in in her hospital bed, arm around her, careful not to disturb her nasal cannula or any of the other cords protruding from her body. He’d begun reading chapter books to her, and right then, he’d started _Ann of Green Gables_. Diane sat next to the bed, hand on Sara’s, as she blinked back tears.

It’d been a month since Sara’s allergic reaction. She’d started a new drug, and at that point, everything seemed to be running smoothly, relatively speaking. Jim had taken the day off to be with Diane and Sara as they awaited the results of the tests run the previous day. The tests that would tell them if Sara’s new chemotherapy drug was working.

Jim finished the first chapter, kissing Sara’s head. She didn’t say much those days. The vacant look in her eyes upset Jim to the core, but he tried to be strong for his wife. For Sara.

A couple hours later, as Sara napped, the doctor came in, sitting down. Clearing his throat, he looked at Jim and Diane over his glasses. “I’m afraid this drug isn’t working like the other one was—”

Jim heard nothing else as his breathing shallowed, grip on Diane’s hand tightening. He registered his wife sobbing quietly beside him. “Is it the same or has it progressed?” Jim finally choked out, and he could tell by the look on the doctor’s face that he’d already told them.

“It’s similar to where we were when she was first admitted, so I’m going to switch her to another drug, ready to be administered tomorrow.”

Jim nodded, his knuckles turning white in Diane’s hand. When the doctor left, Diane threw herself into Jim, tears soaking his shirt. “How long do we do this?” she asked. “Is this fair to Sara?”

Jim pushed her off of him, gripping her shoulders. “What are you saying?” he asked, eyes boring into her.

“I hate seeing her in so much pain, Jim. If this next one doesn’t work, I don’t know—”

“Shut up!” Jim said, and Diane flinched, backing away from him. “You will not speak about our daughter that way, do you hear me? There are always more drugs. More options. We’re not going to give up like some fucking—”

Diane clasped her hands together, bunched up at the corner of the couch, making herself appear as small as possible. Jim hadn’t seen her act like this before, and in some sick, twisted way, it pleased him, even if just slightly. How dare she suggest they give up on their daughter.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” she said, barely a whisper. “You’re right. This is all so hard for me. For all of us.”

Jim nodded, lips tight. He softened a little at his wife’s hurt expression. “Hey, come here.” He put his arm around her, squeezing her, before he excused himself from the room.

Jim sat in an empty stairwell, head in hands as he began crying. A few tears gave way to more tears until sobs wracked his body. He leaned against the corner of the wall, letting go completely for the first time since Sara’s diagnosis. As snot ran down his upper lip, he wiped it away and breathed in and out as deeply as he could. He needed to get ahold of himself. No one could see him like this, especially not his family. He had to hold out hope, especially when Diane couldn’t.

The next round of chemo played out similarly to the last, only this one made Sara shake uncontrollably. Jim tried covering her with blankets and slipped on the little booties her grandmother had crocheted for her. He rubbed her arms, held her close, whispered in her ear to relax and take a nap, but nothing helped. When Diane got up to ask a nurse about it, the nurse told her it was a normal reaction. _Normal_. Jim hated that word. Nothing about any of this was normal, and yet, the hospital staff used it so much. Normal to them, maybe. But they didn’t know the real Sara, the vibrant, beautiful, bright little girl who loved books and science and her daddy. The girl who was still in there. She had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on my mom. She had a similar experience to Sara's with an allergic reaction to the chemo she was on, and I was the one with her that day. It was incredibly scary, and although she made it through that, ultimately, she passed away from the cancer later on. The next chapter will be heavily based on my experience with that and the reactions of those around me at the time.


	16. Goodnight

**Summer 1979**

_Goodnight my angel, now it's time to sleep_  
_And still so many things I want to say_  
_Remember all the songs you sang for me_  
_When we went sailing on an emerald bay_  
_And like a boat out on the ocean_  
_I'm rocking you to sleep_  
_The water's dark and deep, inside this ancient heart_  
_You'll always be a part of me_

_-Billy Joel_

Another month. More time spent taking turns with Diane at the hospital. This lack of connection with his wife would’ve bothered Jim if he’d noticed, but he didn’t. Every free opportunity he had, he stayed by Sara’s side. Did she want Jello? He got it. An extra blanket? Check. Her constellation book read aloud? He did it over and over until his mouth ran dry. He’d tell her things like, “When you start kindergarten in the fall…,” and Diane used to try to quiet him. After enough scornful looks from Jim, she stopped.

“Daddy, why are you and Mommy mad at each other?” Sara asked one day.

“Oh, honey, we’re not. It’s just that when you spend so much time in the hospital, things can get kind of stressful. I love your mommy.”

“Good,” Sara said, but she didn’t smile. She never smiled, anymore. “I love Mommy. And I love you, too, Daddy.”

Jim leaned in to give his daughter a hug and kiss. “And I love you so much, Princess. So, so much.”

Two days later, while Jim worked, Diane called frantically, telling him that Sara had another breathing episode. She hadn’t had one since the initial scare, but this one was worse, Diane said. Her lips turned blue and she stopped breathing for a bit while the doctors and nurses performed CPR. 

Jim told his job he would be on leave until further notice.

When he arrived at the hospital, he gave Diane a brief hug before rushing over to his daughter’s bedside. Sara lay there, awake. “Are you okay, honey?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, just tired. And shaky.”

Jim nodded. “Understandable. I’m going to be with you every day from now on. I’m not leaving. How does that sound?”

“Good,” Sara said.  

Diane pulled Jim aside. “How will we afford that?” she asked. “I get that they’re being generous with the amount of time they’re giving you, but every day you go over your allotted personal days, your pay gets docked.”

“I know, and we’ll figure it out at some point. Right now, I need to be here.”

The next day, the doctors performed the same tests Sara’d had so many times already. On that day, she also began throwing up after every meal. Jim attributed it to the anesthesia, so he didn’t worry too much, but when it continued into the next two days, he became angry.

“When are we going to get the damn results?” he questioned a doctor, three days after the procedures.

“I’m sorry, sir. Sometimes, it can take awhile.”

“Every other time, we’ve had results within twenty-four hours.”

“Sometimes, there are delays.”

“Delays? My daughter is puking her fucking guts out, and we need to know if we have to switch her treatment!”

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do. I’d appreciate it if you don’t talk to me that way—”

“I’ll talk to you however I damn well please.”

Diane put her hand on Jim’s shoulder, leaning in toward his ear. “Don’t get yourself kicked out,” she said.

Jim scowled. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, sir.” The doctor left, and Jim slumped into his chair. Sara turned her head to look at him, holding out her hand. He leaned over, taking it. “I love you, sweetheart.” She didn’t respond.

The next day, the doctor came in with the test results, wanting to speak with Jim and Diane out in the hallway, away from Sara. “I’m afraid the chemotherapy isn’t working. We believe the cancer has spread to other organs, and judging by her vomiting, the stomach is likely one. There’s nothing more we can do, and I suggest we make her as comfortable as possible.”

Diane stared wide-eyed at the doctor, clutching Jim like a lifeline before crying into his shirt.

“No,” Jim said, surprising both Diane and the doctor. “We won’t give up on her. Not now. Not ever. If you can’t figure this thing out, we’ll find another hospital that will.”

“Sir, with all due respect, there’s nothing anyone can do, and transporting her now would just add to her suffering.”

“Bullshit. I want the numbers of all the hospitals in the city. Now.”

“I’ll have a nurse bring them to you.” He turned to Diane, giving her a knowing look. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Diane said, tears still running down her face. 

Jim turned to Diane after the doctor walked away. “Thank you? For what? For giving our girl a death sentence? I can’t believe you right now.”

“And I can’t believe you. You are in such denial about what is happening, it’s sick. Sara is going to die. There’s nothing you can do to stop—”

Jim raised an open palm toward Diane, stopping himself before he made contact with her face. She flinched, then stared at him, mouth open.

“I’m sorry, Diane. I didn’t mean to. I—”

She only glared at him, walking back into the hospital room and closing the door.

“It’s not like I actually hit her,” Jim grumbled to himself. He took a few deep breaths, then pushed the door open. Diane sat next to Sara’s bed, stroking her hand.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Can we go to the park?” she asked. “I want to swing.”

Fresh tears rolled down Diane’s cheeks as she put her hand to her mouth. Jim sat down next to her, putting a hand on Sara’s leg. “Why don’t you take a nap and dream about going to the park? Swing as high as you can and touch the sky. I’ll be right there, cheering you on.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Sara closed her eyes.

That evening, Jim called every hospital he could find, even branching out to suburban hospitals. No one would agree to take her. After crossing the sixty-second hospital off his list, he stood, throwing the phone before punching the wall, leaving a small dent. He pressed his head against the cool of the plaster, shoulders rising and falling with every breath.

“Jim. Come sit down,” Diane said.

“I can’t.”

“You’ve gotta get a handle on this.”

“On what? Letting our daughter die? I don’t know how you do it.”

“I’ve been trying to process it for awhile—”

“No, not that. I don’t know how you manage to be such a cold mother.”

Diane bit down hard on her lip, looking at Jim in a way that made clear all of the hurt and guilt and anger she’d been shouldering. “Fuck you, Jim,” she said. 

He didn’t answer, staring straight ahead at the wall. 

The next day brought hope for Jim, albeit brief. Sara called his name. She hadn’t spoken a word since the day before. “Yeah, Princess?” he asked.

“Mr. Stripey wants to eat the purple shirt on my arm. Can you take him away?”

Jim’s brow wrinkled in confusion. 

“She’s delusional,” Diane said. “The counselor said she could be. It’s why she asked about the park, yesterday.”

“Counselor? Why the fuck—”

“You know exactly why. Don’t be stupid.”

He turned back to Sara, reaching for her stuffed tiger.

“No! No! Mr. Stripey!” She reached out for the animal as Jim, startled, thrust it back into her arms. He put his head in his hands and ran them through his receding hairline, sighing.

“Jim, I’d like to have some alone time with Sara,” Diane said. “Could I ask that you leave for fifteen minutes?”

“Why?”

“I—I want to be able to say goodbye. The counselor suggested it.”

Jim’s eyes darkened. “No. You may have given up on her, but I haven’t, and I refuse to leave her side.”

“Jim, please—”

“I said no. You’re not going to tell her that she can go whenever she feels ready or to move toward the light or whatever crap you plan on saying. I’m going to park my ass right here and keep on telling her that she’s a fighter and strong.” He looked toward the door. “Where’s that damn doctor? He hasn’t given me a timeline for the new chemo, yet.”

“Why don’t you go find him?”

“You’re just trying to get me out of here. Won’t work.”

Diane remained patient, though, because when Jim stepped away from Sara to use the bathroom, he came out to find his wife by her side, whispering into her ear. She stopped and looked up at him, but he was too exhausted by that point to do anything about it.

Later that evening, after Diane had fallen asleep, Jim got up to sit next to his daughter. “Hey, Princess. It’s me, Daddy.” He touched her hand, but she didn’t respond. “We never did get to finish _Ann of Green Gables_ , even though you loved it so much. So I’m going to read the last two chapters and hope that you can understand and enjoy it. And I hope you know how much I love you and don’t want to see you go.” A sound like a strangled animal escaped his throat. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, hands down. You’ve made me feel whole in a way that nothing and no one else has. It’s such an honor to be your Daddy. I always wondered if I’d be a good one, because my Daddy wasn’t good, and I worried I’d be like him. And I don’t know how to put into words how much I love you and miss your smile, your big, blue eyes, your questions, your excitement about life.” He blinked back tears. “I just don’t think I can manage without you.” He looked hopefully for any sign she understood, but she lay there, silent, eyes closed, machine beeping. _Those fucking beeps_. They would be etched in his brain for the rest of his goddam life. Jim opened _Ann of Green Gables_ and began reading the last two chapters.

***

A doctor and several nurses surrounded Sara’s bed, performing CPR. “Her blood pressure keeps dropping,” one of the nurses said. Jim stood in the background with Diane, arms around her, pressing her tightly against his chest. As he realized the weight of the situation, he let go of Diane, keeping a hand on her shoulder as he stared at the heart rate monitor. The beeping slowed until the line went flat, a high, sickening pitch.

“Flatlining,” another nurse yelled as Diane brought her hand to her mouth and Jim stared on, mouth open. _This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening._ Diane nestled into Jim’s neck, crying.

“No,” Jim mumbled, eyes glassy, staring at the scene before him. “No.”

 


	17. After The Funeral

**Summer 1979**

_Hand me your hand, let me look in your eyes_  
_As my last chance to feel human begins to vaporize_  
_Maybe it's the heat in here, maybe it's the pressure_  
_You ought to head for the exits, the sooner the better_  
  
_When I try to open up to you, I get completely lost_  
_Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost_  
_And I reach deep down within but the pathways twist and turn_  
_And there's no light anywhere and nothing left to burn_  
  
_I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam_  
_And no emotion that's worth having could call my heart its home_  
_My heart's an autoclave_  
_My heart's an autoclave_

_-The Mountain Goats_

 

She’d officially died of heart failure. Jim guessed the cancer had gotten her heart, too. As Sara’s casket lowered into the ground, Jim wanted to feel something. Anything. He only felt numb.

At the post-funeral luncheon, he watched friends and family hug Diane as she cried. He didn’t cry. He had nothing left. To anyone who extended their condolences, Jim offered a curt thanks and shrugged them off as quickly as possible. He only wanted solitude. Why should he have to pay for a lunch for others and grieve how they deemed appropriate? The emotions from his mother’s funeral stirred deep in his belly, but at least that created some sort of feeling.

“Hey, buddy.” A hand clapped on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Boss says take all the time you need.” Jim turned around to find Bill. He nodded, mumbling a thanks before noticing a chocolate chip cookie in the man’s hand. He didn’t try to quell the anger bubbling inside of him. How could anyone eat at a time like this?

Bill seemed to sense Jim’s discomfort, so he made an awkward exit over to Diane. Jim watched as Bill placed a hand on Diane’s shoulder, talking. Diane nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, responding to whatever he said before she pulled him in for a hug. _How is she buying all this shit?_ he wondered.

Jim excused himself from the luncheon and walked across the street to the liquor store, purchasing the cheapest whiskey he could find. He hid it in the kitchenette, but not before filling one of the plastic cups to the brim. 

“Are you drunk?” Diane asked a little while later.

“No,” Jim slurred, eyes bloodshot. “Thisus how I act when I’m grievin.”

“Bullshit,” she whispered. “You are drunk. Where’s the liquor?”

“I’m not tellin ya.”

Diane pressed her lips together. “Okay, Jim. If this is what you need to get through this. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

And he didn’t. At least, he didn’t think so. He mostly just ignored everyone, left them to talk with Diane and her parents.

When Jim got back to his apartment that evening, he headed straight for bed, flopping down in his dress clothes, alcohol still coursing through his system. “Why dontcha ever sleep with me anymore?” he called out into the other room. Diane had been sleeping on the couch the last three nights, ever since Sara’s death.

She stepped into the doorway. “Do you really want to have this conversation now? It’s not a good idea.”

“An why not?”

“You’re drunk. We’ll talk in the morning.” So Diane left him there to fall asleep in his crumpled suit and loosened tie.

Jim woke up at three a.m., mouth full of cotton and the beginnings of a pounding headache. He stumbled into the living room, watching Diane sleep for a minute before making his way to the kitchen and downing a large glass of water with some medicine. Then, he started coffee.

Diane woke to the smell, stepping behind Jim and placing her hand on his shoulder. He whirled around. “Whoa, hey.”

“How you feeling?”

“Not great.”

“Heh, I’d expect not.”

Jim squinted, eying his wife. “We okay?”

Diane sighed. “Not really, Jim.”

“But it wasn’t all that long ago that we went out for that nice dinner and had really great sex. Didn’t you think so?”

“Of course I did, but a lot’s changed since then.” She bit her lip. “You’ve said some really hurtful things to me. That I’m a cold mother. Given me so many hurtful looks. Wouldn’t even let me say goodbye to my own child. I don’t know if that’s forgivable, Jim.”

He looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry. I was in denial, like you said. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was stupid and a jerk, but please, I can’t lose you, too.”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere. But I need you to understand that if we’re going to work, you can’t treat me the way you’ve been treating me.”

“I understand.”

“Now, I’m going to sleep in the bed, and I want to sleep in it alone. You can have the couch.” After Diane left and closed the door to their bedroom, he flopped down onto the couch and put on the tv until he fell asleep.

The next two weeks, Jim genuinely tried to make up for what he’d done. He slept on the couch without complaint, letting Diane take the bed. On a particularly rough day, when he found her sobbing while heating up one of the casseroles a friend had brought over, he went out and bought her flowers. He started back to work a week after the funeral, not because he was ready, but because he figured Diane wanted time to be alone. That’s what he would’ve wanted.

But Jim found that he hated going back to work. Everyone regarded him as if he might break the second they mentioned Sara, so most people just avoided him. It was for the better, anyway, he concluded. He didn’t want to talk to any of them, either. Even Bill acted awkward around him.

Then, one week later, the simple act of opening the newspaper would send Jim careening into a downward spiral he wouldn’t be able to escape for years.

After getting ready for work, he sat down at the kitchen table for coffee, flipping absentmindedly through the paper. He landed on an article, sending shivers down his spine.

 

**Agent Orange may cause birth defects, cancers**

By David Johnson

Scientists may have discovered a link between Agent Orange, an herbicide used during Vietnam War to defoliate jungles, and several types of illnesses in veterans and their offspring. “Exposed veterans have been shown to have higher rates of certain types of cancers, nerve and respiratory disorders, and decreased fertility,” Peter Holloway, the scientist who conducted the study said. Evidence has also shown higher rates of miscarriage among veterans’ children as well as higher rates of birth defects and cancers, leukemia in particular.

 

Jim shut the paper before he could read any more, the blood draining from his face. He couldn’t let Diane see this. Ever. He stood, running the newspaper under the tap water before breaking it into tiny pieces with increasing ferocity until he threw fistfuls of wet paper onto the linoleum floor, sobbing. _It’s all my fault. Sara’s dead because of me. Tom’s dead because of me. That baby and his mom are dead because of me. I’m a curse. A black hole. I can’t even give Diane another baby because of something I was a part of. She’d be better off without me._ Jim collapsed onto the floor. His nose ran, dripping onto his shirt as he wept, head in hands and shoulders shaking. He had to get himself together before Diane got out of the shower, or he’d have to explain himself. Quickly, he cleaned up his mess, double bagging it before sticking it in the bottom of the trash can. He rinsed his face in the sink and left for work just as Diane turned the shower off.

***

_“Daddy, can you read me a bedtime story? Why don’t you do that, anymore?”_

Jim woke in a cold sweat. His eyes darted around the dark living room. He could’ve sworn he heard her voice. It’d sounded so real. He glanced Sara’s bedroom door. Neither he nor Diane had gone in there since Sara’s death. He shifted his body, bunching up his pillow and laying his head down, to try to go back to sleep, but he heard a soft whine. _Was it…?_ No, it had to be in his head. Sara was gone. Even so, he sat up, staring at her door. After several seconds, he stood, walking over and standing in front of it. He placed a hand on the doorknob, holding it there before taking a deep breath and twisting, creaking the door open.

Sara’s bed was made. Diane must’ve done it one day when she stayed home from the hospital. Her dollhouse sat in one corner. All her books lay on the bookshelf. Stuffed animals lined her bed. He walked in, carefully, as if being there might set off an alarm. He sat gingerly on Sara’s bed, stroking the pink, flowered quilt.

“Jim!”

“Hngh,” Jim grunted, waking up from a deep sleep.

“What are you doing in here?” Diane stood in the doorway, and it took Jim a minute to realize he fell asleep in Sara’s bed, clutching her stuffed teddy bear. He sat up, disoriented.

“I—I don’t know. I was sleeping on the couch and somehow ended up…” He trailed off.

“I know it might be a comfort to you, but it bothers me, and I’d rather you not mess up her stuff,” Diane said.

“No, I get it, I just—I don’t even remember coming in here.”

“Okay, well, I need you out.” She walked over, plucking the stuffed animal from Jim’s side, placing it back with the others. She urged him to move as she smoothed out the quilt.

 _I’m not even allowed to go in her room, anymore,_ Jim reflected. Something must’ve made him go in. He just couldn’t remember what it was.

The next night, he heard her again.

_“Daddy, why did you go to the war?”_

_“I thought it was the right thing to do, Princess.”_

_“Do you love me?”_

_“Of course, I love you. Why would you think I don’t?”_

_“Liem says you don’t.”_

_“Who’s Liem?”_

_“The boy I met. He said if you loved me, you wouldn’t have gone to this stupid war. Oops. I didn’t mean to say stupid. Daddy, did you kill people?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Did you kill me?”_

Jim woke, sweat soaked through his t-shirt. He stripped it off, sitting up and looking around. _Sara’s room. How do I keep ending up here?_ He straightened everything the best he could and walked out.

In the next week, he dreamt of Sara every night. Sometimes Liem. Sometimes Liem’s mother. About half the nights, he ended up in Sara’s bed, unable to recollect getting there. Diane hadn’t caught him since the first time.

During the day, he heard Sara’s voice. Soft whispers and giggles, unlike her full speech during dreams. Still, it caught him off guard every time.

He had to do something, or he would completely lose it.


	18. This Is The End

**Fall 1979**

 

_We sent out the SOS call_  
_It was a quarter past 4 in the morning_  
_When the storm broke our second anchor line_  
_Four months at sea 4 months of calm seas to be pounded_  
_In the shallows off the tip of montauk point_  
_They call them rogues they travel fast and alone_  
_One hundred foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong_  
_What they call love is a risk_

_Cause you will always get hit out of nowhere by some wave and end up on your own_  
_The hole in the hull defied the crews attempts to bail us out_  
_And flooded the engines and radio and half buried bow_  
_Your tongue is a rudder_

_It steers the whole ships sends your words past your lips_  
_Or keeps them safe behind your teeth_  
_But the wrong words will strand you_  
_Come off course while you sleep_

_Sweep your boat out to sea or dashed to bits on the reefs_  
_The vessel groans the ocean pressures its frame_  
_Off the port I see the lighthouse through the sleet and the rain_  
_And I wished for one more day to give my love and repay debts_  
_But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west_  
_They say that the captain stays fast with the ship through still and storm_

_But this ain't the Dakota and the water is cold_  
_We won't have to fight for long this is the end_  
_This story's old but it goes on and on until we disappear_

_Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath_  
_I am the one who haunts your dreams of mountains sunk below the sea_  
_I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean_

_I know this is what you want_  
_A funeral keeps both of us apart_  
_You know that you are not alone_  
_Need you like water in my lungs_  
_This is the end_

_-Brand New_

_“Daddy! Chase me!” Sara called. He sprinted after her as she ran away, squealing. She ran in a giant circle and back toward her mother._

_Suddenly, a creature, deep green with long, spindly arms jumped out from behind a bush and snatched Sara. She screamed for her parents, and Jim tried to move, but his feet remained planted in place. He looked, wild-eyed, at Diane, but she, too, couldn’t move. He watched helplessly as the creature slinked away with his daughter._

_In the next moment, Jim found himself transported to a haunted house, or what appeared to be one. He looked toward the shuttered windows as the sun went down._ No use in staying out here _, he thought. Once he got inside, he surveyed the building. He saw no sign of activity, but as he walked, he nearly stepped into a gaping hole in the floorboards. “Fuck!” he said to no one. “I could’ve died!” When he looked up, he spotted two children, walking away._

 _“Hey!” he called out to them. “Please help me find my daughter! I can’t find her!” But when they turned around, their yellow eyes glowing in the dim light, and he backed up. They said nothing, turning and walking away toward a giant pile of old soda cans. He watched them climb up the pile and decided to follow, staying asafe distance behind. Halfway up, he heard a scream._ Sara! _Jim climbed as quickly as he could, pulling himself up to the next floor of the building. He hid behind a wall, and when he peered around the corner, there she was._

_Someone had strapped Sara into a chair, beakers and tubes bubbling with various colors. Seeing her Daddy, she screamed for him. He tried to shush her, hoping he’d have enough time to come up with a plan to get her out._

_All of a sudden, a larger chair whirled around, and a skeleton sat, eyes glowing red. “Get him!” The skeleton pointed. In Jim’s peripheral, he saw the same green creature from before and another, hairier-looking beast. They bounded toward Jim, and before he could make his escape, they each grabbed an arm._

_“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Sara shrieked._

_“I’m here, Princess. I’m here.”_

Jim woke, glancing toward the window. The sun had just started rising. He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. He’d had this same dream three times in the last week. 

When he got to work later that day, he closed himself into one of the empty offices. He picked up the phone and dialed his primary care physician, whom he hadn’t spoken to in years.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist answered. “Dr. Jarrell retired two years ago, but we have another doctor who’s taking new patients. His name is Dr. Chadwick. Would you like to see him?”

“Sure,” Jim said. He didn’t care who he saw, as long as the person could fix him, and as long as no one found out.

The next morning, instead of going straight to work, Jim stopped at the doctor’s office. He fidgeted as he waited, and even though it wasn’t the hospital, it reminded him of it all too much. Finally, the nurse called him back, and after answering all the standard questions, Dr. Chadwick came in to see him.

“What seems to be the trouble today?”

“I, uh, can’t sleep,” Jim said, scratching the back of his head.

“Can you elaborate more on that? Are you having trouble falling asleep? Staying asleep? Having nightmares?”

“All of the above?” Jim shared what had happened with Sara, as little as he could to get the point across. Dr. Chadwick took notes on his clipboard, nodding and humming as Jim talked. “So what’s the answer, Doc? How can I stop having these nightmares and get some goddam sleep?”

“Well, I can prescribe you a medication that will help with the insomnia, and in turn, should help with the nightmares. It calms the excited central nervous system and works very quickly, so you can take it right before you go to sleep.”

“Great. That sounds perfect.”

“I’ll write up a script, and you can take it to your pharmacy to get it filled. I’ll prescribe a month’s worth, so just come see me if you need more or if it doesn’t get better.”

Finally, Jim had a solution to his ailment, and it came in the form of a simple pill. As Jim walked to his car, he glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. _Tuinal_ , the doctor had written. He drove straight to the pharmacy.

That evening, as Jim got ready for bed, he popped his first pill, a blue and red capsule. He didn’t feel anything at first, but quickly, the drug worked its magic and Jim relaxed for the first time since he and Diane…well, he wouldn’t think about that at the moment. He switched on the tv and flopped onto the couch like he normally did, but before he could catch the story on the CBS late movie, he fell asleep.

Jim woke feeling refreshed. He wasn’t in Sara’s room, and he couldn’t recall any nightmares. He stretched, sitting up and examining the bottle of magic pills. Maybe if he’d gotten them when Sara had been diagnosed, he and Diane wouldn’t have had the blow-up they did.

While at work, Jim decided he wanted to surprise Diane and get Chinese takeout like they had on their first date. He picked up some egg rolls and lo mein on the way home, walking into the dark apartment. “Diane?” he called. “You home?” No answer. When he flipped on the light, he found a note taped to the door. _I went to visit my sister. I’ll be back late._ Jim slumped onto the couch, defeated. He thought about calling over to her sister, but decided against it. So he stuffed himself full of Chinese food in front of the tv, popped another pill, and fell right to sleep.

In the next month, Jim took his pills every evening like clockwork. Diane went out a lot of evenings, and she often stayed overnight at her parents’ or sister’s. On those nights, he got to sleep in his bed, but he really wanted to start sharing it again. Wanted things to go back to normal, or as normal as possible.

One evening, after he’d visited the pharmacy for his Tuinal refill and a bouquet of flowers, he stopped at Diane’s favorite burger place to pick up dinner. But when he stepped through the door of the restaurant, he froze. Straight ahead of him, Diane sat at a table, and she wasn’t alone. Jim could tell immediately from the back of his head. _Bill._ Before Diane could catch a glimpse of him, he turned and walked out the door.

Jim paced the apartment, waiting for Diane to get home. He didn’t take his medication, because he wanted to be awake to confront her, but he did down four of the six beers he’d picked up.

When Diane finally walked through the door around eleven p.m. and flipped on the light, Jim sat, awake on the couch, like a parent waiting for his late teenager.

“Jim!” Diane said. “You scared me. Why are you sitting in the dark?”

He ignored her question. “Where were you?”

She shrugged. “Out with a friend, getting dinner. Why?”

Jim looked at her, pain in his eyes. “Why don’t you have dinner with me, anymore? Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get take out, hoping you’d be home to eat it with me? How I wish we could sleep in the same bed? You know how long it’s been since we’ve had sex?”

“Three and a half months,” Diane answered.

“And I brought you these.” He held up the crumpled flowers he’d been sitting next to since getting home. “And I stopped at The Mohawk to pick up some burgers—”

Diane’s eyes grew wide. “You were at The Mohawk?”

“Yeah.”

“Jim—”

He stood, walking over to her. “So you’re seeing Bill now?”

“No! He’s just a friend. But I knew if I told you—”

“Bullshit!”

Diane jumped. She held out her hands, attempting to calm her husband. “Nothing inappropriate has happened. I promise you that. Every time I told you I was staying with my family, it was the truth.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why don’t you talk to Bill yourself? Then you’ll see that nothing’s happened between us.”

“I’m sure he’s a liar, just like you.”

Something in Diane snapped. “You know what? This is why I leave all the time. This is why we don’t sleep in the same bed, and I sure as hell am not having sex with you when you say stuff like this to me! You’re not sorry about the hospital. You never were. It was all an act to protect what little normalcy you had left.”

“Oh, I was sorry, but not anymore. I’ve done so much for you in the past two months. I’ve given you all the fucking space you could ever want. Haven’t ever questioned your disappearing on a whim. Let you have the fucking bed all to yourself. When you told me never to go in Sara’s room, guess what? I listened. I brought you flowers when you were crying. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

Diane looked at Jim, and perhaps she felt a little sorry for him, but mostly he saw resentment. “None of that matters.”

“Oh, that’s rich—”

“No. Listen. None of that matters, because you weren’t there when I needed you. It’s all been about you. What you thought I wanted. Did you ever stop to ask what I needed? Did you ever ask how I was doing? I’ve had to suffer through this alone. That’s why things have been so strained between us. Not because of what happened with Sara. We could’ve made it through that. It’s how you handled it that showed me what kind of person you truly are.”

Jim staggered backward. “What kind of person _I_ am? What about what kind of person you are? A lying, cheating, backstabber.”

“Speaking of lying,” Diane said, walking over to a desk they kept in their entryway. She opened a drawer, pulling out a large pile of unopened mail, rubber-banded together. “When were you going to tell me about these?”

“I’m handling it.”

“Oh, so throwing hospital bills and eviction notices in a desk drawer is handling it?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You know what, Jim? We were supposed to be a team. I thought that’s what we were when we were dating, and when we first married, even. But over time, that became less and less true. You haven’t respected me in years.”

“And I suppose Bill is this amazing guy. Knows what the hell you’re thinking at all times.”

“At least Bill has the decency to listen! You know how much shit he’s gone through with Catherine? She won’t even let him see his daughters! He hasn’t seen them in a month!”

“At least they’re still alive.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? I’ve been trying to do right by you, but you know what?” Diane threw her hands in the air, letting them crash back down to her sides. “Maybe I will go sleep with Bill. You think it’s happening, so might as well, right?” She stormed to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Jim took two pills that night.

He walked into work the next day, hair disheveled and shirt untucked.

“Hey, Jim, what’s going on?” Bill said as Jim walked up to him, reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. He said nothing, decking Bill in the face. As the Bill hit the floor, the whole office flew into a commotion. 

“What the fuck?” Bill held his bloody nose as Jim loomed over him. 

“You know what that’s for, you son of a bitch.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s for fucking my wife!”

Everyone went silent as Bill stood, facing Jim. He spoke in a low voice. “I never did such a thing. I wouldn’t do that to you, and Diane wanted to work things out.”

Jim’s voice rose. “So you admit you two were seeing each other behind my back?”

“Yeah! Because we both knew you’d react just like this! She only wanted someone to talk to, but you only care about your own truth, and fuck what anyone else has to say.”

Jim lunged at him again, but several officers held him back.

“Hopper! My office! Now!” the commissioner yelled.

Jim sat across from his boss, slumped over. 

“Look, I’ve been more than accommodating when it came to your daughter. You’ve gone well past your number of excused absences, and I’ve allowed it, because I had a niece who was in a car accident, and I saw what it did to her parents. You used to be a great employee, but lately, you’ve been a huge fucking problem. I get that you’re going through shit, but when you bring it to the office and start assaulting other officers, that’s not going to fly. There are people who would kill for this job, and you don’t seem to give a fuck. I hate to do this, Jim, but you’re fired.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna hear from the union,” Jim said, standing.

“Just get your stuff and go.”

He walked out of the commissioner’s office, throwing everything on his desk into a box while his co-workers looked on. Bill frowned, and Jim pointed a finger his way. “I don’t need your fucking pity!” He stormed out the door and didn’t look back.

When Jim stepped inside his apartment, he found Diane packing a suitcase. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

She stopped for only a few seconds to answer him. “Bill called and told me what you did. I can’t do this anymore, Jim. I’m going to stay with my parents.”

“For how long?”

Diane didn’t say anything for awhile as she continued packing. “I don’t know.” When she finished with one suitcase, she began filling bags. As she reached for a framed picture of Sara, Jim grabbed her arm, attempting to twist the photo from her grip.

“If you think you’re taking that, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I need something to remember her by!” Diane said, grunting as she tried to escape Jim’s grasp. “Let me go! Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You can’t just take all our stuff! You gonna go in Sara’s room and take all that, too?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, chests rising and falling. “Fine,” Diane said, breaking the silence. “We’ll divvy this up, later. In the meantime, I want this god damn picture!”

“Divvy it up? What the fuck are you saying?”

“I don’t know right now. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.” With that Diane headed out the door, slamming it behind her.

 _Divvy it up? I can’t do this anymore? She couldn’t have meant—_ Diane didn’t outright say it, and Jim didn’t want to admit it, but he knew exactly what she meant.

He spent the next week sitting around his apartment, waiting for Diane to call, but she didn’t. Beer cans littered the tables and floors. The garbage can overflowed, and the bathroom reeked of piss. _She’s gonna call. She’s gotta call._ One evening, as Hopper sat on the floor, perched against the couch, nursing his tenth beer of the day while watching tv, the phone rang. He stumbled to his feet, nearly crashing into the coffee table as he raced to get it.

“Diane? Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Hopper?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Benny. From—”

“Benny! Wow, how’s it been? I haven’t talked to you since—Jesus, since I got married.”

“I know. It’s been awhile. Uh, my dad passed several years back, so I own Benny’s Burgers now.”

“Good thing you have the same name as your dad,” Jim said.

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that joke. But uh, nothing much. Same old Hawkins, ya know?”

Jim chuckled. “Yeah, I know. How’s Betty?”

“We got divorced like four years ago,” Benny said.

“Got it. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay.”

“You settle down with anyone else, then?”

“Nope. Just me and my two dogs. Not super interested in the whole marriage thing again, at least not right now.”

Jim grunted. “Yeah, I get that.”

“So I’d ask how you been, but that’s the reason I called. Heard through the grapevine what happened with your daughter. I’m really sorry. Just wanted to call and offer my sympathies, especially since we haven’t really kept in touch, and I feel kinda bad about it.”

“Life, you know? It’s not like I’ve called you, either. But, hey, thanks. I appreciate the call.”

“How’s Diane holding up?” Benny asked.

“Uh,” Jim rubbed the stubble growing out on his face. “Not too great.”

“I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, but, well, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“You still doing police work?” Benny asked.

“Yeah. I mean, taking a break. For now.”

“Chief Baumgartner’s about to retire, so they’re looking for someone to take his place here.”

“Oh, yeah? No one on the team’s gonna do it?”

“Not enough experience, I guess. Well, hey, it was great talking to ya, but I’ve gotta go. Break is ending. Again, I’m sorry about Sara.”

“Thanks, and nice talking to you, too. I’d like to catch up again soon,” Jim said.

“Yeah, sounds good. Here, I’ll give you my number.”

After Jim got off the phone with Benny, it occurred to him that maybe Diane had been trying to call during that time, so he picked up the phone, debating if he should call her parents’ place or not. He listened to the dial tone, then hung up, deciding it would make her mad if he did that, and that’s the last thing he wanted to do. He lit a cigarette, walking downstairs to get the mail. The mailman had stuffed his mailbox to the brim, and Jim considered that he should probably check it every day and not just every so often. He pulled it all out and headed back upstairs.

“Trash. Bill. Trash. Trash. Bill,” he muttered to himself as he sorted the mail. Suddenly, he stopped, observing the envelope in his hand. “Lawyer?” Jim said, cigarette between his teeth. He tore the letter open and stared. _Petition for Divorce_ , it read.

He knew it was coming. That still didn’t make it hurt any less. He picked up the phone to dial Diane’s parents’.

“Hello?” Diane’s mother answered.

“Helen, it’s me, Jim. Listen—”

She interrupted him. “Diane told you not to call here.”

“I know, but I got a letter in the mail, and I need to talk to her—”

“John!” Helen called out.

Diane’s father picked up the phone. “Jim, Diane explicitly told you not to call here. You’re a cop. Uh, _were_. You should know better, that this could be considered harassment.”

“Please, I just need to talk to her for a minute.”

Muffled voices filled the receiver as Jim listened to what sounded like hushed arguing. Finally, someone picked up the phone again.

“Jim.”

“Diane!”

“I told you not to call here.”

“I know, but I feel like I need an explanation, and you clearly weren’t going to call me—”

“Explanation is pretty self-explanatory. Just sign the papers. It’ll make this whole process easier.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s too late for that. I want to come get the rest of my things, but I don't want you there. Tomorrow at noon. Please don’t be there, Jim. I’m bringing my dad, so—”

“Do you actually think I would hurt you?” Jim asked.

“No, I don’t. He’s going to help me pack, and I’m really not in the mood to get in a fight with you.”

“Fine,” Jim said.

“Sign the papers.” With that, Diane hung up.

Jim threw the receiver at the wall and went to the kitchen, cracking open a beer and downing it before crushing the can and chucking it across the room. He picked up his prescription bottle, turning it over in his hand. One pill didn’t cut it, anymore. He popped two, then lied down to sleep everything away.

The next morning, Jim remembered the phone call. He headed into Sara’s room with a box, hiding the things inside he wanted to remember her by. Her stuffed tiger. _Ann of Green Gables._ The constellation book. A few of her paintings and drawings. When he’d nearly filled the box, he went out to the other room, finding the family photo album. He removed about half the pictures, placing them into the box with the other items. Diane would discover them gone at some point, but he didn’t really care. Why should she get to pick and choose what she wanted first?

Jim headed out right before noon and found a payphone. He examined the scrap of paper he held in his hand. 765-555-2303. He dialed the number.

A woman picked up. “Hawkins Police Department. Flo speaking. How can I help you?”

“Flo? It’s Jim Hopper.”


	19. Find My Love

**Winter 1979**

_What makes it easy to treat people bad?_  
_Some things you say and you can't take 'em back_  
_What makes it easy to run from the past,_  
_like a child runs from the dark?_  
_Which is the poison and which is the wine?_  
_The scent and the colors are so much alike_  
_And how much of each will it take to decide,_  
_when your at the table alone?_

 _How can you tell when goodbye means goodbye_  
_Not just for now, for the rest of your life_  
_How can you stand there with love in you eyes_  
_And still be walking away_  
_Love gets lost_  
_Love gets lost_  
_Find my love_  
_Find my love_

_-The Avett Brothers_

Jim made his way into Hawkins, a small trailer hitched to the back of his car. He’d sold most everything Diane left in their apartment, packing up the necessities and sentimentals. He drove straight through the night, and by the time he made it to the one motel inside Hawkins city limits, his body shook from anticipation or sleeplessness. Maybe both. He popped two of his blue tips, swallowing them dry, before making his way to the motel office and paying for a room in cash.   
****

Finding his way back to Hawkins after all these years didn’t come without conflicted feelings. On the one hand, nothing had changed. On the other, everything had.

He knew he needed to get a good night’s sleep to prepare for the next day. Flo had assured him that he’d be a shoo-in, what with everyone remembering him from his high school football star days and his heroic military service. _Gotta love nepotism_ , Jim thought. Flo also mentioned that his twelve years working for the NYPD were the most impressive credentials they’d seen thus far. He stripped down to his underwear and fell onto the bed with a groan, making sure to set the bedside alarm before the pills took over.

The next morning, Jim took a shower, brushed his teeth, and gave himself a nice, clean shave. He didn’t really know what to wear for an interview, so he threw on slacks, a button-up, and a sports coat.

“Flo! Long time, no see,” Jim said, walking into the police station.

“Jimmy Hopper,” she said, giving him a big hug and looking him up and down. “The last time I saw you, you were just out of high school and a lot thinner.”

Jim laughed. “I’ve broadened quite a bit since then.

As they caught up, the Hawkins mayor and a few other city officials and citizens walked in. “This is the search committee,” Flo explained, and Jim swallowed. He hadn’t realized the interview would be so intensive. When no one was looking, he took one Tuinal, just to make sure he stayed relaxed. 

They all sat down around a large table. Jim passed his resume around, talked up his achievements with the NYPD, and schmoozed his way through the interview. He talked football and hunting with the good ol’ boys and flirted just the right amount with the women on the committee.

“You did great,” Flo said two hours later, patting him on the back.

“What’s the next step?” he asked her.

“They have one more person to meet with, and they’re going to narrow it down to two. If you’re chosen, you’ll get another interview and tour of the town. Then, the mayor has the official decision.”

“Ah, the tour,” Jim said, smirking.

“I still think you’ve got it in the bag.”

That night, Jim relaxed at the motel, watching tv. _This is just what I need_ , he thought. _A place to start over, where people know me, but not too much about me._ It seemed a bit like a fail, moving away to a big city and ending back up in your small town. But as Chief of Police, Jim wouldn’t have to worry about that too much. That position brought status. Automatic respect. He didn’t let himself dwell on what would happen if he didn’t get the job.  

The next day, Jim made his way to Benny’s Burgers for lunch. As he sat down at a table, he heard a booming voice from across the restaurant. “Hopper!” Benny walked over to Jim’s table, sitting down across from him. “I didn’t know you were in town!”

“Yup. Interviewing for that Chief of Police position.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s great. How long’s it been since you been back?”

“Twelve years.”

“Well, shit.” Benny looked around. “Where’s the wife?”

“She…couldn’t make it.”

“That’s too bad. You staying at the motel in town?”

“Yep.”

“How does it feel to be back in Hawkins?”

“Strange. Everything’s pretty much the same. But not. I’ve already seen a buncha people from high school. Chrissy Carpenter’s gotten…yeah.” Jim made a face.

“Chrissy Townsend now, and yeah. She used to be something, huh?”

“You got that right.”

“I gotta get back to work, but do you want to grab a beer sometime? How long’re you in town for?” Benny asked.

“Awhile, probably. Uh, I should probably get to bed early tonight. I just got called for my second interview. Tomorrow morning. But how bout tomorrow night?”

They agreed to meet at The Hideaway, a bar just on the outskirts of town.

Jim spent the rest of the day eating fast food and watching tv in his underwear.

The next morning, Jim donned the same slacks and sport coat, but with a different button-up, hoping no one would notice. He popped a blue tip and headed for the police station.

The second interview went as well as Jim could’ve expected. He spent the morning answering follow-up questions, meeting friends of the mayor, and touring the city of Hawkins. Before they’d even gotten back to the police station, the mayor turned to Jim. “I’d like to offer you the job, if you want it. The other guy’s good, and he’s got more years than you, but not with the NYPD. Plus, the town already knows Jimmy Hopper, and we’d be thrilled to have you back.”

“Wow, that’s—thank you. So much,” Jim said. “When do I start?”

“Well, that’s sort of up to you. Baumgartner’s already out, so it depends how much time you need to move and all that.”

“I can start as soon as possible.”

“Are you sure? Next week? Monday?”

“Monday’s great.”

When Jim made it to The Hideaway that evening, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “I got the job!” he said, sliding into the booth across from Benny.

“That’s great news! The first beer’s on me.”

After the men had finished a few beers each, Jim started to open up a bit more. It felt like old times. They talked women, town gossip, politics, and an assortment of topics Jim wouldn’t remember later. Never Vietnam, an unspoken agreement between the two.

“Hey, um…” Jim started. “I haven’t been totally honest with you. Diane and I, we—we’re getting a divorce.”

Benny hummed. “I thought you might be. It seemed kinda weird that she wasn’t with you.” He raised his hands. “I understand, man. Trust me. I can’t imagine the stress you two were under with everything that happened.”

Jim withdrew into himself a bit, lighting a cigarette and letting the smoke drift lazily around his head. “I miss her.”

“Hey, remember Chris Marley?” Benny asked, changing the subject.

“Old Man Marley,” Jim drawled, leaning back. “Yeah. What about him?”

“If you’re looking for a place to buy, he’s selling his double-wide. Moving to Florida. I bet he’d leave it furnished for you if you need it. Really good deal.”

“Yeah, I’ll look into it.”

***

“And that’s why I haven’t been able to sleep,” Jim told his new doctor. “I just need that little nudge to help me nod off.”

“No problem,” the doctor said. “I have a lot of patients with insomnia, especially older. Your case with your daughter and divorce makes sense. I imagine you won’t be on it forever, but just holler when you need a refill. As long as it’s helping, I don’t have any problems keeping you on it.”

Jim headed over to the pharmacy to fill his script for Tuinal. As he stepped outside of Bradley’s Big Buy, carrying a paper bag with his prescription and a few assorted groceries, two children, around five or six, bounded into him. He looked down. “Hey, watch where you’re going, why don't ya?” He took in a sharp breath at the little girl’s blonde curls and blue eyes.

“Hey, aren’t you the new Chief of Police?” their mother asked, frowning. “They’re just little kids. Haven’t you ever encountered children before?”

Jim cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He rushed toward his car, coming to a dead stop when he spotted a woman, auburn hair flowing down the back of her tiny frame. She struggled with two bags of groceries, trying to open the door to her green pinto. _Joyce Horowitz. Byers,_ Jim corrected himself. She looked older, of course, but not twelve years older. Definitely more frazzled. Frumpy, even. But something caught his eye and kept him watching…He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Was it the fact that they had dated in ninth grade? He hadn’t had this reaction to Chrissy. All of a sudden, he remembered Lonnie, and his thoughts darkened once more. Jim tore his thoughts from Joyce, sliding into the driver’s seat of his car before she had a chance to notice him.

***

Jim had been Chief of Police for a month. He had to balance the budget, manage the police officers underneath him, and deal with inane requests around town, a far cry from what he did in New York, and he got paid more. He bought Old Man Marley’s trailer with the last of his savings, perfect timing, really. He’d started the process of filing for Chapter 7 bankruptcy, which would’ve wiped out his savings completely. At least they couldn’t take his residence. To make end’s meet, he sold his car, using the police Blazer as his primary vehicle.

On December 25, 1979, Jim sat, alone, in the police station. Every other officer had the day off, probably opening presents and having Christmas dinner. Jim stared at the stale donut in front of him and lit a cigarette. He wondered what Diane was up to. Was she with her parents? Were they having Helen’s famous apple pie? Did she feel happy, or was she reminded of everything she had lost?

Jim popped a pill, trying his hardest to relax. He imagined Sara. They’d have gotten a small Christmas tree to fit the apartment. What would she have requested that year? A model solar system? More _Ann of Green Gables_ books? Maybe they’d be in their new house, and he’d surprise her with a puppy, complete with a bow tied to its collar. Sara would giggle as the puppy licked her face.

He took another pill, leaning back in his chair to sleep.

 


	20. Hurt

**Winter-Summer 1980**

 

 

_I hurt myself today_  
_To see if I still feel_  
_I focus on the pain_  
_The only thing that's real_

_The needle tears a hole_  
_The old familiar sting_  
_Try to kill it all away_  
_But I remember everything_

_What have I become_  
_My sweetest friend_  
_Everyone I know_  
_Goes away in the end_

_Beneath the stains of time_  
_The feelings disappear_  
_You are someone else_  
_I am still right here_

_-Johnny Cash_

 

Jim hadn’t had sex in over seven months. It’s not that he didn’t want it. He did. But part of him felt a little weird about it, because, for so long, he’d only been with Diane. Even with his impending divorce, he couldn’t help but feel tied to her. _Only one way to get over that_ , he decided.

After work, he stopped at The Hideaway, finding a seat at the bar. “Johnnie Walker, black. Make it a double,” Jim told the bartender. He downed it, then requested another. Glancing around the bar, he saw mostly older men having beer and some playing pool. Not too many women, and those he did see were already with someone or not Jim’s type, although the last part didn’t bother him all that much at that point.

After his second double, he thought about finding another bar, but decided against it when an attractive blonde around his age walked through the door alone. She sat down next to Jim at the bar and ordered an amaretto sour. He debated what he should say, but before he could start the conversation, she spoke up. “Hey, you’re the new Police Chief, right?”

“I am. How’d you know? You been checking me out around town or somethin’?” He flashed a flirty grin.

“You’re wearing your uniform.”

Jim looked down. “Ah, so I am,” he said, sipping his third double.

“That’s not to say I wouldn’t do a double-take if I saw you on the street. I’m Cassidy.” She held out her hand.

“Jim. Everyone around here calls me Hopper.”

“Well, Hopper, rough day?”

“Nah, I just like to come here to unwind. You?”

“Yeah, kinda. Got yelled at by my boss today for messing something up. Came here to drink it away.”

“That, I get.” Jim looked at her. “I’ve never seen you before. You didn’t grow up around here, did you?”

“No, grew up in Logansport. Came here for the job. Dental assistant. Been here about ten years.”

“That’s not long after I left.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re back,” she said, smiling, “because you just might be the most handsome man in here.”

Jim laughed. “Oh, am I?”

Cassidy took a look around the bar, then gave Jim the once-over. “Definitely the most handsome.”

They continued talking over the next hour, flirting more with each sip of alcohol. Jim offered to buy her next drink. “Sex on the beach,” she said, and Jim just grinned. “We don’t have any beaches around here, at least not this time of year.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to settle for sex in bed, then.”

Jim sat, speechless, mouth cracked open. _Holy fuck. Did she—Yeah, she did._ He cleared his throat. “I don’t remember women being this forward the last time I did this.”

“Some are, some aren’t. Guess you got lucky with me.” Boy, did he. He downed the rest of his drink and paid the tab.

“Let’s go drink at my place, instead,” he told her. “You wanna follow me in your car, or—?”

“Sure.”

She’d only had two drinks, so she’d be fine. Jim had six (or was it eight?) by that point, but he’d built up a pretty high tolerance and figured he’d be fine. It only took seven minutes to get to his place, anyway.

Once they made it inside Jim’s trailer, he pulled out more alcohol. “Want me to make you something?” he asked, shoving aside pizza boxes and empty beer cans.

She looked around, clearly unimpressed with her surroundings. “Uh, something sweet?”

Jim threw some vodka and cranberry juice together, pouring a shot of straight vodka for himself. He swallowed a capsule and chased it with vodka to alleviate the jittery feeling skipping the pill caused. He sauntered over to Cassidy and handed her the drink, wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. 

After groping and drinking and groping some more, they made it to Jim’s bedroom. He pushed her down onto the bed and began kissing her neck and collarbone. When he sat up to remove his shirt, he couldn’t help but notice how much she really looked like Diane, but maybe that was just the alcohol. Her tits were certainly bigger, he told himself. As they both got naked, the room started to spin, and really, it couldn’t come at a worse time. He hadn’t had _that_ much to drink, he reasoned, and he just needed to power through. He made his way down her body, kissing and touching, his face lingering in between her thighs before diving right in.

She must’ve loved it, because she kept squealing and bucking against his face, and he couldn’t remember the last time Diane had been quite that enthusiastic. He slid two fingers inside of her, sending her into a complete frenzy and quick finish from there. Jim sat up, eyes half shut, watching her chest rise and fall and _damn it, why won’t the room stop spinning_? He finally brought her face into focus, remembering who he was with all along. And it wasn’t Diane.

“Oh my god, no bar pick up has ever done that before! Usually, I have to wait until I’m in a relationship for that!”

Jim chuckled, shrugging, knowing full well that if he were any more sober, he probably wouldn’t have done it, but hey.

Cassidy pulled him on top of her, assaulting his mouth with her own, before taking his cock and guiding him into her. “Holy shit, your dick’s big, too? God, how did I get this lucky?” He knew he was large, but not outrageously so, and especially not after drinking so much. The over-the-top praise started making him uncomfortable. He pulled out, and she whimpered. “What’re you doing?”

“Condom,” Jim said, grabbing one from the bedside drawer. Once he slipped it on and repositioned himself, he pounded her hard out of necessity, and if her screams said anything, she loved that, too. In all honesty, he just wanted to get off and make her leave, but she continued strong for about ten minutes before crashing down underneath him. Jim gave it his all, coming and collapsing on top of her heaving body.

“That was the best sex I’ve had maybe ever,” Cassidy said, and Jim couldn’t help but wonder what the hell kind of sex she’d been having before, because he certainly did not feel that way.

“Oh, yeah?” he said. “That’s great. I’ve kinda got a long day tomorrow, though, and it’s late. I don’t mean to kick you out so soon, but—”

She just giggled. “One night stands, I know the drill.” She stood, dressing herself. “It was great getting to know you, Hopper.” She winked before walking out of his bedroom. He heard the front door close, and he let out a moan, dragging his hands over his face. That wasn’t entirely what he’d expected. He got up, downing a couple glasses of water to ward off the inevitable hangover before falling asleep.

The next day, Jim only had a mild headache compared to what he’d anticipated. Still, he couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten so drunk so fast. Then, he remembered he’d taken his pill literally _with_ alcohol and connected the dots. He knew he wasn’t supposed to drink on Tuinal, but he often did, anyway, because it enhanced the calming effect. He must’ve just gone a bit overboard.

Over the next several months, Jim fell into a routine. Work during the week. Go home to fast food or a tv dinner until bed, with the in-between involving alcohol and Tunial more often than not. Take a woman out on the weekend, or, if he didn’t have a date, pick someone up at a bar. In either case, he’d take her home and never contact her afterward. Repeat the following week.

One April weekend, however, he didn’t follow his usual plans. It was April 9, Sara’s birthday. She would’ve turned six. Jim drank several beers, and before he could stop himself, he dialed Diane’s parents’.

Diane answered. “Hello?”

“Diane.” Jim choked.

“Jim.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. Why are you calling?”

“You know what day it is?”

“Yes.”

“I miss her, hon. God, I miss her so much—”

“Jim, you can’t call me h—”

“I miss you, too.”

Diane paused, and Jim worried she’d hung up. “I had hoped you’d moved on by this point.”

“Oh, I have. Believe me,” Jim slurred. “Every weekend. But not today. Because today is Sara’s day.”

“Every—okay, well. If it helps you. But it seems that it’s not.”

“God, I miss your soft skin. Your beautiful face. The first time I slept with someone, I was so drunk, I thought it was you—”

“This is inappropriate.”

“I want you.”

“I’m gonna go, Jim. Go sleep this off.” With that, she hung up, and Jim found himself alone once more.

The next weekend, he had a date with a twenty-something waitress named Anna, who he’d met at a local restaurant. She had dark hair, intense eyes, and curves in all the right places. As they groped their way into Jim’s trailer, she pulled her mouth away from his. “I was so thrilled when you asked me out.”

Jim smirked. “Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”

She blushed. “Um, well…word around town is that you don’t hold back on a first date. And that you’re really good at it.” Her face turned even redder. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

Jim hooked his hand around her waist and pulled her in. In fact, after the time with Cassie ( _Cassidy?_ He couldn’t remember), he figured it could be a nice strategy to use. One many men weren’t taking advantage of, clearly. Well, the joke was on them. “I am very good at it.” His voice came out low and rumbly, and Anna’s knees buckled.

Jim found some of his hook ups better than others. Anna proved to be one of the better ones. Still, even when a date went well and the sex was good, he never called back. Some women preferred this. Others did not.

“Hopper!” Flo yelled from the front of the police station. “You’ve got a call on line three!”

Jim picked up the phone. “Chief Hopper.”

“Hopper? It’s Anna, from the other night.”

“Oh. Hey, Anna.”

“So I, um, I had a really great time. Really great. And I know you said you’d call, and I know this is kind of forward, but I’ve been waiting for a week and a half, and I thought maybe you’d lost my number or something.”

“Yeah,” Jim scratched the back of his head. “Uh, well, listen. I had a great time with you, too. You’re really sexy and fun. But I’m just not looking for anything serious right now.”

“Oh! Well, I’m not looking to rush into anything serious—”

“You seem like a great girl, but I’m just not interested.”

Silence followed. “Okay,” Anna’s voice wavered before she hung up. Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, considering how much of a dirt bag he’d become. On the other hand, he didn’t really care.

***

Jim called Diane a couple more times while drunk over the next few months. Then, in August, he called again, only this time, Diane’s father picked up.

“Okay, Jim, this is getting stupid. Diane doesn’t even live here, anymore, so you can stop calling. Move on with your life.”

“She doesn’t live there? She get her own place?”

“She got married.”

Jim’s whole world stopped. On the other end, he heard muffled arguing. Heard Helen berate John for letting that information slip. Jim just hung up the phone. Their divorce hadn’t even been final for a year, and Diane already married again. She’d moved on, and he may have gotten a nice job, but he lived in a trailer, then sitting on the floor in his underwear, drunk-calling his ex-wife. He couldn’t get through the day without alcohol and Tuinal. He fucked random women on the regular. It was a far cry from what his life once was.

Jim pulled out his address book, flipping the pages until he got to Bill’s name. He had a feeling, and he wasn’t sober enough to talk himself out of it.

“Hello?”

“I—I—you got married?”

“I told my parents not to tell you,” Diane said.

“Well, they did, and—god, Diane, it hasn’t even been a year! So you _were_ fucking Bill!”

“I don’t know why we keep going through this. Listen very carefully, because this is the last time I’m going to explain this. I never once cheated on you, even in the end. Bill and I happened _after_ you moved. It was fast, but we’re happy. You need help, Jim. Please go get help.” She hung up.

The next day was August 20, the anniversary of Sara’s death, and Jim called in sick.


	21. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's not as interesting, I think, because I figured a re-cap of S1 was necessary. I tried to balance it by making it short enough but also not rushing through it to where it seems weird. I also added some of my own stuff in, so hope you still enjoy. One more chapter left, I think.

**Fall 1980-1983**

 

_Hello from the other side_  
_I must have called a thousand times_  
_To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done_  
_But when I call you never seem to be home_

_Hello from the outside_  
_At least I can say that I've tried_  
_To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart_  
_But it don't matter it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore_

_-Adele_

Even though it didn’t result in contentedness, Jim managed to scrape his life together over the next few years. Enough to keep it together in public, anyway. The hook-ups had slowed down, although they still happened with some regularity. There were only so many single women in town willing to put out, after all. One woman, in particular, he hadn’t slept with, and he had no intention of trying. _Joyce Byers._ Jim learned she’d gotten divorced, something that immensely pleased him. It wasn’t that he was into Joyce. He wasn’t. He just hated Lonnie that much. If Jim were honest, things felt strained between Joyce and him.They’d fallen apart in high school. Both doing and saying stupid things teenagers say. They’d become strangers, for all intents and purposes. Old friends with years of baggage and raised walls, so any time they ran into each other, they only waved or said hi. Jim couldn’t manage much more than that.

At work, Jim realized he could get by on doing as little as possible. He didn’t shirk his tasks, usually, but he did go into work late on the regular, and he did often pawn assignments off to his two main officers, Powell and Callahan. On one day, however, all three of them had to attend to a major problem. 

“You say an owl landed in your hair?” Callahan questioned Eleanor, someone Jim had gone to high school with.

“Yes!” she screamed, as Jim examined her ankle. 

“Where’d the owl go?” Jim asked.

“How would I know? I need an ambulance!”

“And one is coming. I’m trained to handle things until they get here,” Jim said.

Eleanor had gone to check her mail at dusk when a large owl swooped down and landed in her hair. She had such a large perm, the owl probably thought it was a nest, Jim reasoned. In any case, she started swatting at it, and when the owl realized her hair was not, in fact, a nest, it became angry and attacked. She ran, trying to get the owl off of her, and because she couldn’t see where she was going, she tripped, falling into a ditch and possibly breaking her ankle. When the officers showed up at the scene, Eleanor wailed, feathers and twigs in her hair, claw marks on her face, and an ankle swollen to the size of an orange. The owl was nowhere to be found. _The Hawkins Post_ later ran a headline titled Attack Owl on the Loose and instructed everyone to stay inside while the sun went down.

Jim lifted her leg up just a bit more to wrap an ice pack around it, but she yowled in pain and started smacking him on the arm. “That hurts! Get off of me!”

“He’s only trying to help, ma’am,” Powell said, but Eleanor just glared at him. “I want the hospital. Now! Not you bozos. What’re you going to do, arrest the owl?”

“No, but we could arrest you for assaulting an officer.” Callahan said.

“Not. Helping,” Jim said between clenched teeth as Eleanor began wailing again.

Finally, after far too long, the ambulance showed up, and Jim could go back to the office. He needed a smoke.

That night, he went out with Benny and relayed the day’s events to his friend. They didn’t get together nearly as often as he would’ve liked. Both of their jobs kept them busy, but they made a point to get together at least every couple weeks.

“I got a letter in the mail today,” Jim started. “From my brother.”

“Rich? Jesus, how long’s it been since you’ve heard from him?” Benny asked.

“Too long. It uh, it said he’s doing well. Living out west somewhere. Has a family. But—”

“But?” Benny asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“He isn’t ready to talk to me. Too many bad memories or some shit. I was a kid, ya know? Anyway, the reason he was writing was because when my grandfather died, he left his cabin to Rich. He didn’t want to give it to my mom, because he knew my dad was an asshole. Probably thought he would fuck it up. So, I don’t think Rich has even touched it in all these years. He wants to give it to me. Thinks I would get more use out of it.” Jim paused, taking a drink.

“Huh. That’s some shit.”

“Yeah, it really is. Not sure how to feel about it.”

“What’re you going to do with the cabin? You gonna move in?”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Jim said. “Trailer’s a lot closer to town. I’ll probably use it for storage. I have a lot of boxes that’ve been sitting around, and I’d like to not look at them on a regular basis.”

“If you need help taking stuff over there, I can do it,” Benny said.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

The next weekend, Jim stepped into his grandfather’s cabin for the first time since his childhood. It had held up pretty well, although the inside needed a good cleaning. He decided not to worry about it for the time being and unloaded boxes into the living room. Boxes labeled _Sara_ , _New York_ , _Vietnam_ , among others. Finally, he wouldn’t have those reminders staring him in the face as he sat on his couch.

***

Jim hadn’t read a book in a long time. He’d gotten so preoccupied with Sara, and of course, he read books to her, but not books for his own enjoyment. So he made his way into the Hawkins Public Library. When he walked in, he perused the shelves, choosing a few books he hadn’t read before. He looked up as a group of pre-teens wandered past his aisle, yelling and giggling. “Hey!” Jim said, but they ignored him. “Hey! You!” They stopped talking, glancing over. Jim marched over to them. “This is a library, not the mall. Why don’t you all scram?” He glanced down and noticed a small child, probably one of the kid’s siblings, staring at him with wide eyes before bursting into tears. Jim frowned. “Jesus Christ, just get your books and go.” He turned around, grumbling to himself about kids and how they should be in school all year before stepping up to the counter to scan his books.

“Hello. Ready to check out?” the dark-haired librarian asked.

“Yeah. I don’t have a library card, though. Can I get one?”

“Sure can,” she said, turning around. “I just need your driver’s license.” He handed it over, and she looked at it for a minute. “Right, you’re the police chief. I thought I recognized you. I’ll be right back with your card.” When she returned, she scanned his new card, then the books. “These are great choices,” she told Jim. “I love the classics.”

“Same,” Jim said.

“What’s your favorite?”

“ _The Old Man and the Sea_ , probably.”

“Oh, that’s a good one. I’m Marissa, by the way.”

“Hopper. But you already knew that.” He flashed his charming grin.

“I heard you shoo those kids outta here, and I appreciate it. They’ve been driving me crazy since summer break started.”

“Me, too.” He leaned on the desk casually, looking her up and down. He’d always wondered what it’d be like to fuck a librarian, and he let his imagination wander. 

“Well, here are your books, Hopper.” She handed them to him, lingering as their hands touched.

“Hey, I know we just met and all, but can I take you out for dinner on Saturday? It’s not often I meet a woman who is well-versed in literature.”

Marissa smiled coyly. “Well, that’s flattering. Yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

“Great.” Jim smiled, grabbing a pen and paper to write her number down. 

***

Jim woke up, hungover and late for work. As he made his way into the police station, Flo got on his case. “Nice of you to show,” she said. She followed him around the office, talking about stolen lawn gnomes or some other nonsense that he didn’t want to deal with. Didn’t she know he had a headache? Why couldn’t Powell or Callahan deal with that shit? “On a more pressing matter, Joyce Byers can’t find her son this morning.”

“Mmm, okay. I’m gonna get on that,” Jim said, mouth full of the donut he’d just picked up from the table. “Just gimme a minute.” He gave her some line about mornings being for coffee and contemplation before turning the corner toward his office. But once he made his way inside, he came face to face with Joyce, hunched over and smoking a cigarette. She stood to face him, hands shaking and fearful eyes scanning his face. _Shit._

“I’ve been waiting here over an hour, Hopper,” Joyce said.

“And I apologize. Again,” Jim said, starting the missing persons report on his typewriter. Joyce always had a tendency to overreact to things, even in high school. It seemed she hadn’t grown out of that trait. Jim questioned the last time she’d seen Lonnie, thinking perhaps her son had gone to visit his father, but Joyce insisted that wouldn’t be the case.

“Just find my son, Hop! Find him!”

Jim had no idea that his whole world was about to turn upside down. If asked, he would have said it already had. And yet, losing a child and going through a divorce, while awful, still fell into camp normal. Nothing about what would occur next could ever be considered normal. 

***

Jim stepped into Benny’s Burgers, brow furrowed as he walked toward Benny’s body, hunched over one of the tables with flies swarming, a bullet hold through his temple. A gun rested in his hand.

“Suicide?” Powell asked.

“Mhm,” Jim said. 

“Missing kid. Suicide. You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief?” Callahan asked.

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then,” Jim said. “Benny was my friend.”

A black hole. Sara had a picture book about them. They’d consume anything that got close to their gravitational pull. Jim figured that he and black holes had a lot in common. His life had resulted in nothing but pain for others.

Jim spent the rest of the day questioning people, and they all came to the same conclusion. Benny didn’t give any indication that he wanted to kill himself. Even though Jim hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks, others said he’d seemed fine, making weekend plans, even. None of it made sense. Joyce’s son, Will, seemed to be connected, confusing Jim all the more.

He threw a search party together that night, and what better way to distract himself than to flirt with a woman?

To be fair, she began flirting with him.

“It’s really great of you to put all these extra hours into finding that boy,” she said, walking alongside him as they made their way through the woods around Benny’s Burgers. “I was at the last search party, too.”

“Yeah?” Jim said. “I appreciate you coming out.”

“And I appreciate what you do for our town,” she said, running her hand down Jim’s arm. “I’m Janice.”

Jim woke up in his bed with Janice next to him, arm draped over his body. He peeled it off of himself, tossing it gently to the side before dressing and making his way to the deck to smoke and have a beer. When he turned around a few minutes later, she’d come up right behind him in only her shirt. “What’re you doing? It’s freezing.” She gave him a sleepy smile. 

“You ever feel cursed?”

She just stared at him.

“You know, last person to go missing here was summer of ’23. Last suicide was fall of ’61.”

“When’s the last person to freeze to death? Hey, come back inside. Warm me up.”

“Just—Just give me a minute out here.”

Janice watched him, confused, before heading back inside with a small huff, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. Without even having to look, Jim knew she left. She’d be better off without him, anyway.

***

Jim sat on the floor of his trailer, playing with Sara’s hair tie that he wore as a bracelet. He dialed Diane, listening to the other end ring.

He hadn’t called Diane in two years, and this was the only time he’d done it sober. He’d gone through so much shit in the last few days with the missing Byers boy, he only wanted something to ground him.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Jim?”

“Yeah.”

Diane let out a sigh. “Why are you calling me here? I told you not to call me.”

“I know. I know. I just wanted to—I just wanted to hear your voice. And, uh, I just wanted to say that, um, even after everything that happened, I don’t—I don’t regret any of it, and those seven years, they were everything to me.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No. No.” A baby’s cries pierced the receiver, and Jim suddenly realized what’d happened in the time he hadn’t spoken with her.

“Shhh. Honey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Shhh,” Diane cooed to the baby.

“You know what?” Jim said. “Actually, I have been drinking. I’m sorry.”

“Jim, I can’t.”

“Just take care of yourself, okay? Say hi to Bill for me.”

“Are you sure—” Diane started, but Jim had already hung up. A baby. Everything in him wanted to be angry. Angry that she would replace Sara, as much as he knew that wasn’t true. Angry that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. But he only felt dejected. Then, he remembered he had a bigger problem to deal with, and he stood up to go see Joyce. The phone rang as he headed out the door. He turned around and considered answering, but instead, he grabbed the phone and detached it from the wall.

Jim had become more and more entrenched in what seemed like a conspiracy theory. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be more real. Slowly, he came to realize that Hawkins National Laboratory on the outskirts of town caused Will Byers’ disappearance and that of another girl. Not only that, but the girl had telekinetic and telepathic powers, and she’d opened up a gate to another dimension, a dimension where monsters lurked. A gate that one monster escaped from. It all sounded crazy. No one would believe it if he told them. No one but Joyce. Some kids, too, but he and Joyce were the only adults who knew the entire fucked up situation.

The whole conspiracy mess forced Joyce right back into Jim’s life. They weren’t friends, exactly. More like partners, working together toward a common goal. Remembering what happened after Sara, he never once considered her crazy for thinking Will spoke to her. When they found Will’s body, Jim slept in his truck outside her house just to make sure she was okay. When she still insisted her son was alive, he did the unthinkable and snuck into the morgue, cutting the body open to reveal it as a fake. He searched Joyce’s house for bugs the government might’ve placed. He drove her out of town to talk to a woman who might have some information that would help them find Will.

Yeah, he did it for Joyce. They used to be close, after all. But he mostly did it for himself. Even if his officers questioned how much time he spent with the woman, Jim knew it was more about solving the mystery than anything else. Maybe he could actually feel like a useful human being for once.

Jim had forgotten how stubborn Joyce could be. And boy, did it get on his nerves. Once they’d figured out how to get Will back, she insisted on going with, even though he knew it would be dangerous. Jim planned to get caught by Hawkins Lab in order to make a deal with them, and he didn’t want Joyce involved in any of it. But if she insisted…

After being caught, tased, and threatened, he came to an agreement with Dr. Brenner that if no one spoke about what Hawkins Lab had done, and if Jim would reveal the whereabouts of the missing girl named Eleven, they would grant Joyce and him access to The Upside Down, the other dimension where Will had become trapped.

He didn’t expect what came next at all. He and Joyce found Will, near death and not breathing. Jim did what any person would do and started CPR. He instructed Joyce on mouth to mouth while he did chest compressions. And in that moment, he saw Sara. Watched as the doctors and nurses performed CPR on her, and as the line on the monitor went flat.

“Come on, kid!” Jim yelled, pounding Will’s chest over and over. He couldn’t let his black hole get him, too. All of a sudden, Will took in a gust of air, and Hopper let out the breath he’d been holding in. Will was alive. Jim didn’t know in what kind of condition, but all that mattered in that moment was that he was alive.

Jim and Joyce both had to sign confidentiality agreements. Jim hated putting her in that predicament, but he didn’t see any way out of it. He also felt guilty about revealing Eleven’s location to Dr. Brenner, even if she evaded the men after her. Again, he hadn’t seen any way out of it at the time. Unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, no one knew where, or if, the girl was. He only hoped she was safe. Jim made a wooden box and began leaving food in it for El in the woods. He had no idea how she’d find it, but he didn’t know the extent of her powers, and he figured it was worth a shot.

After the monster tore Joyce’s house apart, he offered to help fix it up. He knew she didn’t have the money or the time, and he enjoyed feeling valuable. He figured it would take a weekend, tops. But when he saw the extent of the damage, he started going over after work, and if Joyce was home, she’d make him dinner or at least sit down to coffee with him. It was during these times that they rehashed everything that happened, the therapy they both needed. Even though he and Joyce weren’t in a relationship, he wouldn’t make the same mistakes he did with Diane and stay closed off. At least, he tried not to.

After two weeks of visiting almost every evening, including whole days spent on the weekends, Jim had fixed most everything that needed it. Joyce told him it looked even better than before. “Stay for some drinks,” she said. “To celebrate.”

It was late. The boys had gone to bed, and Jim and Joyce sat at the kitchen table, sharing cigarettes. “I—I know it’s dead. I just worry it’s going to come back, or there will be more, or—” Joyce shook her head, and Jim noticed her hand trembled as she held the cigarette between her two fingers.

“Hey. Have I told you how impressed with you I am?” Jim asked.

Joyce brushed him off. “Please.”

“No, really. How many mothers would have done what you did?”

“I would hope all of them.”

“No. Most would’ve seen the body and accepted it. You didn’t. You could’ve let me go in the Upside Down and get Will myself, but your stubborn ass had to come along for the ride.”

Joyce choked out a laugh.

“Well, it’s late. I should probably head home.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” Joyce said, putting out her cigarette. She stood with Jim. “Again, thanks for everything. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my boy, and I’d still have a hole in the front of the house.”

Jim wrapped his arm around her in a side hug. “Anytime.”

It felt strange going home after work the next day instead of to Joyce’s, but he wanted to give her space. If she needed him, she’d let him know. And it didn’t take long before she called. “It feels weird without you here,” she said. “Come over?” And he did.

“I can’t sleep,” she confessed. “I keep seeing that creature in my dreams. I worry about El. What’re those sleeping pills you take?”

“No!” Jim said sharply enough to make her gasp. “Sorry, but no. They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

“I just need something—” She put her hand on Jim’s arm, and he recoiled. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing. That’s not why I’m here, Joyce.”

“Not why you’re here? Oh, did you think—” She let out a laugh. “Hop, I know that you’ve been getting around, but that’s not—”

“No, of course not,” Jim said. “We’re just friends.”

“Just friends,” Joyce agreed.

Joyce asked Jim to stay the night to help her sleep, and he reluctantly agreed. “What about the boys?” he asked. “Won’t they think it’s weird?”

“Will and Jonathan are staying the night at Dustin’s.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Jonathan?”

Joyce glanced off to the side, crossing her arms. “Yeah. I, um, I kind of insisted on it. Having a hard time letting Will off by himself, you know? This was our compromise to letting him have a sleepover.”

Jim chuckled. “I see. Jonathan’s gotta be happy about that one.”

Joyce huffed. “I just—”

“I know, Joyce. I’m just teasing you,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder briefly.

When they climbed in bed a little while later, Jim stayed so far over to his side, he could feel the edge of the mattress. He fluffed his pillow and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Joyce asked.

“Nothing,” Jim said. “Just thinking about stuff.”

“I get it. Hey, you don’t have to stay all the way over there. I’m not going to bite.”

“I know. I just—I don’t want you to think I’m trying something. I know my reputation, but I have no intention of coming on to you.”

“I know, Hop. Come here.”

He slid over next to Joyce and carefully placed an arm over her, eventually relaxing. He laid close enough to smell her hair, and he didn’t know what shampoo she used or anything like that, but it smelled good. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered when the hell he planned on letting himself know that he had feelings for Joyce. And not just pent-up sexual feelings. No, these feelings were much more Diane-like. One thing he did know: It scared the absolute shit out of him.

Joyce invited Jim over for Christmas, but he declined, telling her he’d already agreed to a company party. He didn’t lie, exactly. Flo had planned a party at the station on Christmas Eve, but Jim also wanted to be alone on Christmas Day. That day, he planned to start weaning himself from Tuinal, and having tried and failed before, he knew it would be a bumpy ride. But he’d thought a lot about his life, how close he and Joyce had gotten, and he wanted to ask her out. Not just for sex, but for real. However, before he did that, he knew he had to get clean.

Jim stopped at the station briefly on Christmas Eve, collecting some food for a tupperware container. He made a joke about only coming for the food before heading back out into the snowy night. On the way home, he stopped by his box in the woods, placing the tupperware, along with Eggos, inside. He’d been doing it every day without fail for the last month, and every day, the food disappeared. He hoped it was El, but he wasn’t sure, and he never saw who or what took the food. As he headed back to his Blazer, ready to go spend a Christmas alone thinking about his daughter, he heard a twig snap behind him. When he turned around, El stared right back at him.

 


	22. After the Storm

**Winter 1984-1985**

_And I won't die alone and be left there._   
_Well I guess I'll just go home,_   
_Oh God knows where._   
_Because death is just so full and man so small._   
_Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before._   
  
_And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears._   
_And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears._   
_Get over your hill and see what you find there,_   
_With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair._

_-Mumford and Sons_

“My granddad used to live here. A long time ago. We mainly just use it for storage, now,” Jim told El, as he walked her inside the cabin he’d inherited. She looked around, examining the dusty furniture and cobwebs. “So, uh, what do ya think? It’s a work in progress, but…” Jim swung at a few cobwebs above his head. “It takes a little imagination, and uh, once you fix it up, it’s gonna be nice. Real nice. This is your new home.”

“Home,” El said, a smile quirking on her lips.

The pair spent the rest of the day cleaning. As they cleared off tabletops and carried boxes into the cellar, Jim came across his grandfather’s old record player and several records. Flipping through, he found Jim Croce and turned to El, face beaming. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. All right, this—this is music.” He put the record on and El’s eyes grew wide as the music started. Jim snapped his fingers, shaking his hips, and he didn’t know what possessed him to do it. He’d only act that silly with Sara, but somehow, El introduced the crack in his walls that triggered the crumbling process. 

Jim shopped for groceries and picked up a tv, and they continued cleaning and installing locks and trip wires into the early evening. He established a list of rules, reading them off to El.

  1. Always keep the curtains drawn.
  2. Only open the door if you hear my secret knock.
  3. Never go outside alone, especially not in daylight.



He called them the _Don’t Be Stupid Rules_. That night, Jim made El a hot dog with macaroni and cheese and peas. They sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, and Jim smiled. “Looks a lot better in here, huh?”

“Better,” El said.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to pick up some books from the library, and we can start doing some schoolwork. I’ll also get you some clothes.”

“Schoolwork?” El asked.

“Yeah, like math, reading, writing, spelling, vocab—hey, let’s do a word of the day. I’ll teach you a new vocabulary word every day that I’m here.”

“What is voca—vocabulary?”

“The words a person uses in speaking and writing. Today’s word of the day can be vocabulary. And now you know what it means.”

El nodded. “Stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Oh. Uh, sometimes. But I also have work and my trailer that I live in…I’ll try to be here as much as I can, though.”

El smiled. 

“Speaking of, this week, I’ll stay here every night, but then I’ve gotta be gone for about a week.”

“Gone?”

“Yeah, I have something important to take care of. I’ll be back. I promise.” Jim didn’t want El to see him as he detoxed. He didn’t even want to see himself.

Jim spent the next week going to the cabin after work and teaching El how to make meals, wash dishes, do laundry, and other household chores. They spent time reading, writing, and completing math problems. He didn’t know what kind of clothes to buy a twelve-year-old girl, so he purchased jeans, overalls, flannel, and t-shirts from Family, Farm & Home. She may have wrinkled her nose at them, but Jim just shrugged. “We can go through the Sears catalogue sometime, and you can circle what you like.”

At the end of the week, Jim figured El could use the stove and wood burning furnace without setting the place on fire.

“I’ll be back in one week. Just use the ham radio if you need to get ahold of me. I promise I’ll answer,” he said. “You think you can handle this?”

She nodded firmly. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He ruffled her hair and smiled.

***

Jim stood at the toilet of his trailer, Tuinal bottle in hand. He’d attempted going off his meds before, but couldn’t hack it, refilling the prescription two days later. This time, he knew he had to follow through. El needed him. Taking a deep breath, he dumped the contents of the container into the bowl, flushing them. He decided to get a good night’s rest, because if the last time told him anything, he wouldn’t be sleeping well come the next day.

When Jim woke the following morning, he felt unusually calm, but sure enough, once mid-day rolled around, his heartbeat picked up and the sweating began. Any other day, he would’ve popped a blue tip, but not that day. He settled himself on the couch with a large glass of water and started flipping the channels.

Later that evening, Jim paced his trailer, sweat dripping off his body, collecting in his armpits and leaving a damp trail down the back of his shirt. The world around him spun, and his heart slammed against his chest. As the top of his head tingled, his vision grew dim and spotted, and he ran to the bathroom with just enough time to empty the contents of his lunch into the toilet. “Fuck,” he said when he finished. He rested his head against the cool of the bathroom floor, and he must’ve dozed off, but the nausea woke him shortly thereafter.

On the way back to his couch, Jim grabbed a piece of paper, pen, and envelope. After sitting, he began to write.

_Dear Joyce,_

_If you get this letter, it’s because I’m gone. Please know that I tried to get off of Tuinal, but something went wrong, and I didn’t make it. Promise me now that no matter how bad things get, you will never go on this drug or anything like it. Please promise me that, Joyce. It’s not worth it._

_Do not show this letter to anyone. You should probably burn it after you are done reading it. I found El a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been hiding her in my grandfather’s cabin. You are the only person I can trust, so I need you to take over caring for her. Don’t tell the boys. Don’t tell anyone. She is in danger, and the more people that know about her, the greater the chance of someone finding her._

_I know you’ll figure all this out. Please tell El that I’m sorry and that I cared about her very much. To you, I’m also sorry. Our friendship has meant a lot to me. Directions to the cabin and secret code are on the second page._

_Signed,_

_Jim Hopper_

The next forty-eight hours bled together into something only Sara’s death could rival. He couldn’t distinguish between fantasy and reality. In his hours of sleeplessness, Jim saw Sara. Diane. Liem. El. Joyce. Brenner. Will. Benny. Barb. Shadows of their true selves. During one particularly disturbing hallucination, Sara dashed back and forth across his trailer, giggling. “I’m hiding. Find me, Daddy.” As he stood, Sara shrieked, crying out for Diane and sobbing. When he looked down at his hands, he flexed moist, pallid claws, hanging from long limbs. He rushed to the mirror, and a petal-like head with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth stared back at him. Only he didn’t stare, because he didn’t have a face.

Jim fell to the floor, pulling his hair as he tried to catch his breath, but his chest clamped down on his heart, tightening. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He rocked back and forth. Maybe he shouldn’t have done it this way, dumping his pills straight down the toilet, but he wanted it over with.

When the phone rang a little while later, Jim knew it was Brenner. He reached for his gun, then remembered he’d left it at the office on purpose and had a fleeting thought that the Other Jim might be working against him. He stood and ripped the phone cord from the wall. “Not gonna get me,” he said in triumph.

Jim came to a little while later, vomit all over his clothes and on the floor. His head pounded and his whole body shook. He knew he needed to clean himself up, but he lacked the motivation to get up off the floor. After ten minutes of wallowing in self-pity, he forced himself up, almost passing out. Somehow, he managed to wipe up the vomit and strip, climbing into the shower and sitting at the bottom of the tub as the water rushed over him. It helped calm his anxiety and nausea just enough for the tiny reprieve he needed. He stayed under the shower head until the water ran cold.

Jim continued to have nightmares, in the event that he could sleep at all. He spent each night shaking and sweating, staring at the ceiling or attempting to watch tv. Finally, after three days and nights of hell, the worst of the symptoms began to subside. He still felt like complete shit, but at least the hallucinations and vomiting had ceased. He plugged the phone back in, then went to his ham radio, hoping El hadn’t tried to contact him when he was at his worst.

“Hey, El. It’s Hop. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a few days. I just—I couldn’t.”

The radio crackled to life. “Hopper?”

“Hey, El! How’s everything going?” Jim asked.

“Fine. I cleaned the house.”

“Have you eaten your vegetables?”

“Some.”

“That’s good. I’m gonna go. Just wanted to check in on you. Should be home at the end of the week.”

“Home.”

“Yep. Bye, kid.”

That night, Jim tossed and turned. He sat up in bed, considering calling Joyce. _She doesn’t need this in her life_ , he thought, then got up to turn on the tv in the other room. He grabbed a box of crackers and a glass of water, snacking as he sat on the couch. He really just wanted a fix. _Maybe I should refill and try tapering off instead. It’ll be easier. Safer._ “No!” he said out loud. He couldn’t do that. As much as he craved it, he couldn’t go back. _Fuck_ , he thought. He needed something to do. He stepped out onto the back deck to smoke, something he hadn’t been able to stomach for the last three days. The January air felt good against his hot skin. _I’m doing this for El. I’m doing this for El._ He repeated it to himself over and over. At that point, he wasn’t strong enough to do it for himself. Initially, he’d wanted to do it for Joyce, but even that, he could’ve talked himself out of. El was the only thing standing between Jim and the drug.

Eventually, Jim started shivering, so he headed back inside. His heart raced and his vision grew cloudy from standing, or perhaps from the cigarette, so he searched his bedroom for a book to read on the couch. Rifling through his bedside drawer, he paused, reaching in and pulling out an orange bottle. He stared at it for what seemed like forever before popping the cap and dumping two Tuinal into his hand. He must’ve forgotten about this one. _Shit._ Jim walked to the kitchen, still clutching the pills, and paced back and forth until he thought he might pass out. _Just one. I’ll just take one and flush the other._ He brought it to his mouth and slid it past his lips, but his swallowing reflexes wouldn’t cooperate. He spit it into the sink and looked at the other pill in the palm of his hand. He thought of El, waiting at the cabin for him. No father. A mother who couldn’t care for her. All the shit life handed her. She trusted him. No one trusted him. But El did. Not since Sara—

Jim threw the last pill down the drain and ran the water as hot as it would go. He picked up a glass and turned around, chucking it against the wall with a yell before sliding to the floor, head in hands.

Jim crawled his way through the week, at times prone on the floor, inching forward, but always moving. He still irritated easily, and his sleep was shot to hell, but he made it out the other side. He’d never be completely free from cravings, but after facing his demons and succeeding, he knew he didn’t have to remain tethered to Tuinal for the rest of his life. As he headed toward the door to go see El, he spotted the sealed envelope on his coffee table. _Joyce Byers_. He tore it into tiny pieces and flushed them down the toilet before shutting the front door behind him.

***

Jim tapped out the secret knock on the cabin door, and El opened it, looking him up and down. “Yeah, I know I look a little worse for the wear, kid. But I’m a lot better, now. I promise.” El didn’t respond, just let him into the cabin. “Looks nice,” Jim told her. “You haven’t just been eating Eggos and watching tv, have you?”

“Sometimes.”

“I’m gonna make us some big, juicy cheeseburgers and brownie sundaes for dessert. Gotta go get the groceries from the truck.”

“Eggo sundaes?” El asked.

Jim laughed. “Yeah, sure. Why not? Eggo sundaes. But only if you eat your dinner.”

Jim grilled a couple burgers on the charcoal grill outside while El mashed potatoes and heated broccoli on the stove. They sat down at the table together, and El poked at her burger before looking up at Jim. He took a bite of his cheeseburger and groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head as the juices ran down his chin. “Mmm. So good.”

“You have had it before.”

“Yeah, well…I’ve been puking my guts out a lot this past week, so this tastes like the most delicious thing in the world.”

“Like Eggos.”

Jim nearly choked on his burger, smirking. “Sure. Like that.”

After dinner, Jim and El worked together to toast a couple Eggos and top them with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. They split it into bowls as they ate in front of the tv and watched E.T., the movie Jim had picked up from the video store on the way over.

“I feel like E.T.,” El said.

Jim turned to her. “Oh, yeah? How so?”

“I don’t—I don’t—I’m different.”

“You feel like you don’t belong?” Jim asked.

“Yes.”

“I think we all feel like we don’t belong from time to time. I certainly feel that way. And life hasn’t exactly been kind to either of us. It’s why we gotta stick together.”

“Stick together.” El smiled before letting her cheeks drop, lips falling into a frown. “Do I make people happy? Is it good for me to go away? Like E.T. tries to go away?”

Jim touched El’s shoulder briefly. “Hey. Of course, you make people happy. I’m happy you’re here and safe. You definitely make your group of friends happy. Especially Mike.” He shook his head, chuckling. “And E.T. is trying to go home. Your home is with those who love you. You never belonged at the lab to begin with.”

El’s eyes lit up at the mention of Mike. “When can I see him?”

“Well, El, that’s the thing. It’s best for everyone involved if you don’t see him right now. I promise I’m working on it, though, and it will be soon.”

“Soon.”

Later that night, as Jim slept, he startled awake to a knock on his door. “Yeah? What is it?” he asked, gruffer than he intended.

“Hopper?” came a small voice from outside the door.

Jim rubbed his hands down his face, then sat up, slipping his shirt back on before greeting El. “You know it’s four a.m. What’s the problem?”

“I’m bleeding.”

“Yeah, your nose bleeds sometimes. Did you have a vision or something?”

“No, not my nose. My—something else.”

“El, I don’t understand.”

“My—my underwear.” She started crying.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jim ran his hand through his hair. Sara would’ve had a few years before this took place, and he always figured Diane would talk to her. He never even considered that he’d have to have this conversation one day. “Uh, well,” he said, glancing up at the ceiling. “I don’t have anything here to help with that, so uh, can you use some toilet paper until morning?”

“Toilet paper?”

“Yeah, like, stick it in—oh, Jesus Christ.” He brought his hand up to his forehead, closing his eyes, grumbling to himself. “Just—wad it up into a ball and put it in there until morning. Or even a washcloth, I don’t care. Just so you don’t get, um, blood on your bed. Or did you already?”

“No.”

Jim sighed. “Good. Okay, so do that, and we’ll talk in the morning.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and closed the door to his bedroom.

This whole stand-in dad thing already had Jim on his toes.

A couple hours later, Jim got up, leaving the house before El woke. He hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, anyway. He headed to Bradley’s Big Buy, praying he wouldn’t see anyone he knew. When he got to the aisle with all the feminine products, he had no idea what to look for. Maxi pads? Tampons? What had Diane used? Did he even know? He grumbled, grabbing one of everything before glancing in his cart and realizing how crazy this all looked. He turned his head to make sure no one saw him before he sped across the store to the grocery section. He’d just been shopping, and they didn’t even need groceries, but that didn’t stop Jim from throwing bags of chips, boxes of cereal, frozen pizzas, and whatever else he could find on top of the offending objects below. A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he jumped, whirling around. “Joyce.”

“Hey, Hop,” she said, peeking into his cart. “You having a party?”

“No, I just like food, alright?”

“Okay. That’s fine. Um—”

“It’s six-thirty. What are you doing out this early?” Jim asked.

“It’s the only time I could get shopping in this week. Jeffrey quit without notice, so Donald has me covering for him while he finds a replacement. We need the money, though, so…” She looked at him. “Why are you up so early?”

“I was hungry.”

She scanned Jim’s eyes. “I know why you’re acting weird.”

His heart thumped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Because you’re avoiding me. That’s why you’re here so early. You didn’t want to run into me. Is it because we slept next to each other in my bed a few weeks ago? Because that meant nothing—”

 _Nothing?_ Jim thought, irritation rising, as much as he tried to push it away. “No, no, no, that’s not it at all,” Jim said. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“It’s been over two weeks since I’ve heard from you. Before that, you were at my house almost every day for a month. Do you know what that’s like for me? It makes me feel like I did something wrong,” Joyce said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You wanna know the truth?” He leaned in to whisper close to her ear. “I quit Tuinal. It was…not pretty.”

“Oh, Hop,” Joyce said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know. You should’ve told me. But that’s great. How did work take it?”

“I took vacation time and told them not to bother me.” He shook his head. “Some vacation.”

She smiled. “I wish I could say I’ve been doing better.”

“You haven’t been?” His heart dropped. He should have known, should have cared enough to ask.

Joyce looked down. “No. I can’t stop having nightmares. My anxiety’s been bad. I—I wish you were there.”

Jim lifted her chin. “Hey. I’m right here. What do you need? Anything.”

“Could you come over for dinner tonight? Maybe, um, maybe you could stay again.”

Jim cursed himself under his breath as he let the answer slip from his mouth. “I can’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s just that—I already have plans.”

“Oh. What plans?”

Jim thought about El and how he promised he would talk with her. About how he’d already been gone for a whole week. “Uh, well—” He didn’t want to lie to Joyce. “I promised I’d help out a friend. Another friend.”

“A lady friend?” Joyce crossed her arms over her chest.

“I guess…”

“Okay.” She moved her hands to her hips, and Jim could’ve sworn he saw her fight back tears. “I’m just—never mind.”

“Joyce, it’s not like that.”

“Not like what? A date? Why should that matter to me? It doesn’t. But I’d have hoped a good friend, which is what I thought we were, would be more important than a date.”

“I told you. It’s not a date,” Jim said, clenching his teeth.

“Whatever.” Joyce waved her hand. “I’ll talk to you later, Hopper.”

Jim dropped his head as she walked away. Would hiding El be worth it if it meant losing the person he felt the closest to?

***

“Hey, kid, you up?” Jim asked, knocking on El’s bedroom door. He heard her groan from inside. “Can I come in?” The door swung open, and El lay still in her bed, clutching her belly. Jim walked tentatively over to her, sitting on the chair next to her bed. “You okay?”

“No. Belly hurts,” El said.

“You want some medicine?” El nodded, so Jim brought her some Tylenol and a cup of water. “I think that’s normal, by the way. Having stomach pain. I, uh, brought you some things.” He left the room, bringing back a couple grocery bags filled with feminine hygiene products. He dumped them on the bed to a wide-eyed El.

“What are these?” she asked.

Jim took a deep breath. “Okay. So, some are maxi pads. Some are tampons. You use them during your…time.”

“Time?”

“Yeah. Your, uh, period.”

“Period?”

“Yes. It’s what the bleeding is called. It happens once a month.”

“ _Every_ month?”

“Yeah. It, uh, it means you’re not a little girl, anymore. You’re turning into a young woman. It’s completely normal and happens to all women. Your body’s going to go through some changes over the next several years. Other changes. Woman kind of changes. Maybe they’ve already started.”

“What other changes?” El asked.

“Um, well, you’ll start growing hair in new places and need to start wearing a bra.” Jim cringed.

“A bra?”

“Yeah, you wear it on your—” He motioned to his chest. “Under your clothes. It’s like another kind of underwear.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably. “Why don’t I get you a book? I’ll see if I can find one. It feels a little weird trying to explain all this to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a man, and you should be having this talk with a woman. Someone who’s gone through it already. Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. I’ll see what I can scrounge up book-wise, though.”

“Scrounge?”

“Yeah, dig up. See what I can find.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do I bleed? How does it make me a woman?”

“Uh, it just means your body’s ready to carry a baby.”

El’s eyes grew wide. “A baby?”

“Yeah, but you have absolutely no reason to worry. Other stuff needs to happen for that. Stuff you don’t need to think about right now. We’ll save that talk for another day.”

El nodded.

“So,” Jim said, looking down. “Let’s look at the directions for these things.”

Twenty minutes later, Jim and El had several boxes opened, directions splayed across the bed. Jim held one up to his face. “These look the same as those over there,” he said, pointing. “Which of these sound the best to you?” El pointed to a box of pads. “Okay. You understand the directions?”

“Yes.”

“Great. So go ahead into the bathroom. If you need anything, let me know, but it seems easy enough.”

While El used the bathroom, Jim went to his room to change into his police uniform. When he stepped back out, El waited for him outside his door. “Everything okay?” he asked. She threw her arms around Jim’s middle in a hug, surprising him. “Oh, uh—”He patted her back. “It was no problem, kid.”

That evening, after he’d tucked El in bed, he left a bag outside her door. Inside, he placed some razors, deodorant, a couple of training bras, more of the pads she’d chosen, some chocolates, and a pamphlet he’d procured from the middle school. He also included a note.

_El,_

_I’m sorry I acted kind of weird this morning. This is all new to me. I hope you know you can come to me with any questions. I probably won’t know the answers, but I’ll do my best to find them. I got some stuff for you that you might find useful. A pamphlet, too, that explains what all of this stuff is for. I hope it helps._

_Hop_

***

Jim and El settled into a routine over the next couple months. He balanced acting as stand-in dad to El with living his life as Jim Hopper, a man not hiding a telekinetic teenager in the woods, which proved surprisingly hard, considering several town citizens insisted a Russian spy girl lurked around Hawkins. The news had even brought a few crazies from out of town, insisting on some sort of conspiracy. Jim did his best to deflect and hoped he wouldn’t slip up as he waited for people to get bored with the story.

This meant he stayed at the cabin some nights, and others, he slept in his own trailer. Sometimes, he stayed away for a few days at a time, and although he knew El didn’t like it, she barely complained. He always made sure to stock the freezer with extra Eggos when he knew he’d be gone.

Communication with Joyce had become sporadic at best. The hurt bled through her posture any time they did interact, and as much as Jim hated it, his situation had him tied up. Eventually, he’d be able to tell her the reason for his disappearance, but for then, he needed to remain closed off.

That was all put to the test one rainy March day, when Joyce stopped into the police station in a frenzy. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a whole day, Hop! Where the hell have you been?” she asked, pacing his office.

Jim just shrugged. “Working?”

“No, you haven’t been. I stopped here yesterday. Flo said you were off. I called your trailer ten times, and no one answered. I even stopped over, but your car wasn’t there, and no one answered my knocks. What the fuck, Hop?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been…somewhere else.”

Joyce nodded. “I see. Well, I hope it’s the same woman and not a bunch of different ones. For your sake, of course.”

Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Joyce. We’ve been over this. It’s not—”

“—like that. I know. Anyway, the reason I’m here.” She turned to make sure she’d closed the door, then leaned in across Jim’s desk. “Something is wrong with Will. I—I don’t know who else to go to.”

Jim’s eyes darkened. “Wrong how?”

“He—he’s having nightmares. Visions or something. I don’t know. He’s not himself. I’m afraid to take him to the doctor, what with all the documents we had to sign. But I need to do something.” She brought a cigarette up to her mouth, trembling as she attempted to light it. Jim leaned in, lighting it for her.

“I still have nightmares,” Jim said. “I know you do. What makes you think these aren’t run of the mill bad dreams?”

“They happen when he’s awake.”

Jim’s breath caught. “What?”

“It’s like—He sees things. He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but from what I can gather, it’s stuff from the Upside Down. But he’ll freeze. And I can’t snap him out of it for like thirty seconds or however long it lasts.”

“And how often is this happening?”

“Just the one that I’ve witnessed. But when I pushed him further, he admitted it’s been happening on and off since Christmas.”

Jim nodded. “Okay. We’re going to take him to his doctor in town. See what they have to say.”

“But Hop—”

“They don’t have to know about the Upside Down part. Will got lost in the woods, remember? That’s something a regular doctor can handle.” Joyce sat, hunched over and eyes downcast, the ash of her cigarette threatening to fall. “Hey.” Jim reached over, gripping her arm, startling her attention back to his eyes. “It’s gonna be okay.”

***

Jim followed Joyce and Will into their family doctor’s examination room. “And what seems to be the trouble today?” Will’s doctor asked when she walked in.

Joyce looked at Will and nodded. “Uh, I’ve been having nightmares,” he stated.

“For how long?” the doctor asked.

“Since Christmas.”

“And what are these nightmares about?”

“I—I’m lost in the woods again. And things are after me.”

“Things?”

“Creatures.”

“Like animals?”

“Sort of,” Will said. “But not.”

“If you recall,” Joyce said, “He got lost in the woods last November and almost died. And these aren’t just nightmares. He’s having them during the day. Not while asleep. I can’t wake him from it.”

“Okay,” the doctor said, taking notes. “And how often is this happening?”

“I’ve only seen it once.” Joyce turned to Will. “How often, baby?”

“Uh, like once—once a month, maybe? It’s happened four times.”

“Okay, well, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m not an expert on the brain, but it sounds like possibly seizures, so I’m going to refer him to a neurologist. I’ll have him give you a call to set up an appointment. In the meantime, if it happens again, I want you to write everything down.”

“That’s it?” Jim asked.

“Yes. I’m trained to deal with standard illnesses, but this is something outside my expertise. I’d rather he be seen by someone who knows the brain well.”

“How long will it take to get in?”

“You’ll have to ask when he calls. My guess is a couple weeks.”

Joyce stood. “Thank you, Dr. Peters.”

“Please call if you need anything else.”

“Well, that was a wash,” Jim said as they made their way to the parking lot.

“You heard what she said, though. My insurance requires me to get referrals, anyway. We’re headed in the right direction.”

Three weeks later, Jim accompanied Joyce and Will to another doctor appointment, this time, a neurologist in Hawkins. The neurologist completed blood work, a CT scan on Will’s brain, then an EEG, asking Will to do various tasks, such as tilting his head at unusual angles or breathing rapidly. As Will attempted to hyperventilate for the doctor, Jim walked out of the room. Five minutes later, Joyce joined him in the hallway, placing her hand on his shoulder. “It’s over. He’s done with the test.” Jim nodded, following her back in the room.

“It’ll take some time to get the blood work back, but I’ve looked at both the scan and the EEG. On the scan, I looked for anything that might appear abnormal. Tumors, things like that. However, that came back normal. With the EEG, I examined Will’s brain activity and tried to activate a seizure. I was not able to do that, which doesn’t mean it’s not seizures, just that I couldn’t trigger one today.”

“Don’t seizures cause a person to fall to the ground and shake?” Joyce asked.

“Not necessarily,” the doctor answered. “There’s a certain kind, called petit mal seizures, where the brain kind of blips for up to twenty seconds. Have you ever had a heart palpitation?”

“Yes,” Joyce answered.

“It’s similar to that. It just means his neurons aren’t firing correctly.”

“So it’s seizures, then? These petit mal seizures?” Jim asked.

“I’m not sure. Several of his symptoms fall in line with a seizure diagnosis, but there are some outliers. You said his episodes last for thirty seconds?”

“About,” Joyce said. “At least the two that I’ve witnessed so far.”

“Petit mal seizures don’t usually last for more than twenty seconds. Most are ten. Will, you said you can remember these episodes?”

“Sort of. I see things happening in front of me, but I can’t hear my mom talking or see anything that she sees,” Will said.

“And that’s not typical of seizures, either,” the doctor told Joyce and Jim. “Doesn’t mean this isn’t it, but we have to keep digging.”

“So what else could it be?” Joyce asked.

“Well, it’s possible it’s not a neurological issue at all, but a psychological issue.”

“So we go see a psychiatrist, then?” Jim asked.

“You can, but I’d advise you to rule out neurology, first. I have some other tests I’d like to complete, and I’d like to see Will back in a few weeks to see if we can trigger that seizure. In the meantime, if it gets worse, let me know.”

They left with more questions than they started with.

The appointment left Jim on edge, so when he got to the cabin and El bombarded him with questions about her friends, he had to take several deep breaths. Was Will okay? Did he see Mike? How was Mike doing? Did he ask about her?

“I haven’t seen Mike in awhile, kid,” Jim said, trying not to let his impatience get the best of him.

“But you said soon. You said you are working on it.”

“And I am. You just have to be patient. Go do your schoolwork.”

“I need help!”

“Fine, just—give me a minute, okay?” Jim cracked a Schlitz and headed to the front porch for a smoke. After he finished his cigarette, he stepped back inside.

“I visit him,” El said.

“What?” Jim’s heart stopped. “I told you not to leave this house!”

“No, not like that. I visit him in my mind.”

“Oh. Like you did in the salt bath? But we don’t have the setup for that.”

“I do it with the tv.” El showed Jim how she’d figured out how to visit the Void by turning the tv to static and blindfolding herself. She’d had a lot of time to practice controlling her powers, she explained.

“And there’s no risk in this?” Jim asked. “You can’t, like, make yourself appear to him or anything?” He still didn’t quite understand how it all worked.

“No. I just see him. Hear him. He talks to me, too, but he doesn’t know I hear him.”

“Okay. As long as it stays that way. And if I feel like it’s too risky for any reason, you need to stop. Got it?”

El didn’t answer.

“I’m serious. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” El said, pouting. “I understand.”

“Good. I’m only trying to protect you, you know.”

***

Another school year ended, and Jim continued to accompany Joyce and Will to neurology appointments. After more tests and scans, they still weren’t able to activate any seizures, and nothing else definitive came up.

“I want to see another doctor,” Joyce told Jim while pacing her kitchen one mid-July day after an appointment that led them nowhere.

“A psychiatrist? But you can’t afford that,” Jim said.

Joyce shot him a dirty look. “That’s none of your business. And yes, a psychiatrist. But not just any psychiatrist.” She slammed a photocopied page on the table.

Jim picked it up, scanning it. “Where did you get this?”

“I went to the library to do my own research. It’s the top psychiatric facility in the country.”

“But it’s in Chicago. Why can’t you go to one here in town?”

“Look what answers Hawkins has given us so far. Zero. I’m sure you tried to find the best hospital for Sara.”

Jim remembered when he called hospitals all over New York, pleading to have her transferred when they’d labeled her terminal. He swallowed hard. “Yep.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jim lied. “You calling tomorrow?”

“I already did. Made a week’s worth of appointments for next month, before school starts.”

Jim sighed. “You sure?”

“Yes. And I want you to come, too.”

“I don’t know if I can, Joyce. Going to appointments with you in Hawkins is one thing—”

“Please. I can’t face this alone.” She stared at the floor. “That’s hard for me to say.”

“Yeah, you always were a real spitfire.”

“Hey!” Joyce elbowed Jim.

“What? I mean that as a compliment. Independent. Strong. Not afraid of anything.”

“But what if I am afraid?” She looked up at Hopper with those chocolate-brown eyes, and he caved.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

Joyce squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

When Jim arrived back at the cabin to the other brown-eyed woman in his life, she’d already heated up two tv dinners and placed them on the table. Jim grabbed a beer and sat down across from El as they began to eat. “How was your day? Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes,” El answered after chewing

“I’m gonna check it after dinner. I also want you to pick out another book we can read together, since we finished _The Secret Garden_.

“Okay,” El said.

“So, uh, I just found out today that I’ll have to be gone for a week in August. I know you hate that, and I’m sorry.”

El frowned. “You said no more long times away.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I’d try. This is important, though. Will has to go see a doctor in another city, and I told him I’d go with him.”

El pondered this, nodding. “Will is really sick?”

“I mean, we don’t know. Something isn’t right, and we’re trying to figure it out.”

“Okay. You can go.”

“Thanks, kid. I promise I’ll stock the freezer with extra Eggos while I’m gone.”

***

After three hours in the car, Jim, Joyce, Will, and Jonathan made it to their hotel in Chicago, the cheapest Joyce could find without having to fear for their safety or worry about catching a disease. Jim insisted on paying for both rooms, much to the protests of Joyce. Jim wouldn’t hear any of it, telling her that she’d be paying an arm and a leg for the doctor, so it was the least he could do. Both rooms came with king size beds and a pullout sofa, so Joyce took one room with her boys while Jim took the other for himself.

The next day, everyone woke early to visit the hospital. The doctors introduced themselves, asking all the same questions every other doctor had already covered. They moved into talk therapy, first as a family, then only Will. They made him look at ink blotches and name the first thing that popped into his head. They did brain scans as they asked him questions. Finally, one of the doctors met with Joyce and Jim while Will and Jonathan stayed in the waiting room.

“Will seems to exhibit some residual trauma from when he got lost in the woods. His answers indicate this, and his brain showed some activity during the scan as he was asked to relive some of those events. You said he’s having nightmares, too?”

“Sometimes,” Joyce answered.

“We’d like to keep him overnight for observation if that’s all right. That way, we can scan him as he sleeps and see what we come up with.”

“I don’t know,” Joyce said. “Can we stay with him?”

“We allow one person to stay.”

“I’ll stay.” Joyce turned to Jim. “You’re okay going back to the hotel with Jonathan?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow, first thing.”

“Thanks. You’re being so great about this, and I appreciate it.”

Jim and Jonathan grabbed some fast food on the way back to the hotel, and Jim called it a night early. He hated hospitals, and spending all day in one took it out of him. Lying in bed with no way to contact El, he worried. He’d stressed the importance of being extra careful about their rules and to hide if anything seemed off. She’d probably be okay, but Jim hated not knowing for sure.

The next day involved more of the same. Will’s sleep scan hadn’t shown anything out of the ordinary, so they wanted to keep him overnight once more. Jim could see the exhaustion in Joyce’s face. “Why don’t you let me stay this time?” he asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that—”

“I know I don’t. But you need to get some sleep.”

“I’ll stay,” Jonathan said.

“You sure, kid?” Jim asked.

“Yeah. He’d probably like that.”

“I think he would.” Jim smiled.

“I just don’t know,” Joyce said, chewing a nail.

“What’s not to know? They're in a hospital. Surrounded by doctors. With a phone.”

Joyce looked at Jim, then back at Jonathan. “Fine. But if he stays again tomorrow night, it’s me.”

When they got back to the hotel, Jim wished Joyce a goodnight and headed to his room, pulling his shirt off and flopping onto the bed with a groan. He’d just about fallen asleep when he heard a knock on his door. He forced himself up and peered through the peephole. Joyce stood on the other side, arms wrapped around herself. He opened the door and her eyes grew wide for a split second. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Then he looked down. “Oh, yeah. I was already in bed. I’ll put a shirt back on.”

“No, it’s okay. Can I come in?” Jim let her into the room and closed the door. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” she admitted. “And I understand you’re seeing someone, and I can sleep on the pullout. I just—god, I hate appearing this weak.”

“Hey,” Jim said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her arm. “You are not weak. We’ve been over this. Even the strongest person in the world will buckle under enough weight.” He smirked. “And I’m not seeing anyone. I promise. You can sleep in the bed if you want, but if you think I’m gonna put out, I’m not that easy.”

“Oh, shut up.” She smacked his arm. “That’s not why I’m here.” Jim picked his shirt up off the floor and slid it back on, climbing into bed as Joyce joined him on the other side. He flipped off the light, settling on his back, and as soon as he did, Joyce shuffled over next to him, curling in close and placing a hand on his chest. “I just need to know my boy’s okay.”

Jim laughed bitterly. “You’re talking to the wrong person, then.”

“No. I think—I think I’m talking to the right person. You understand on a level that no one else does. And I’m not trying to compare my situation to yours. I’m not. But I hope you don’t take offense that I find a certain comfort in you.”

“No, I don’t take offense to that. A little awkward, but I’m not mad or anything.”

“Awkward? Why?”

“Being the screw up’s easy. It’s when you stop being the screw up in someone’s mind that you might actually disappoint them.”

“Oh, you’re still a screw up, Hop. But a screw up I find comfort in.” They laid in silence for a couple minutes until Joyce spoke once more. “Take your shirt back off.”

“What?” Jim choked.

“I’m not going to do anything. I just find it calming, you know?” So he did, and Joyce settled herself back into the crook of his arm. “Your heart is racing.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Okay.” Joyce ran her fingers through Jim’s bit of chest hair over and over as if it were the most casual thing in the world. She lit up every nerve ending in his body, and he both loved her and hated her for it.

“Joyce, we need to sleep.”

“Do we?”

“Yes. You’re exhausted, and we have to get up early.”

“Okay. Fine.” She closed her eyes, and Jim waited until he felt her body relax and her breathing slow before he shut his own. That night, he slept better than he had in years.

The next morning, Jim woke to find Joyce still snuggled up next to him, asleep. He leaned in and kissed her hair, immediately regretting it and feeling like a creep. Joyce stirred and turned toward him. “Morning. What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty.”

“We should get up.”

They made their way back to the hospital where the doctor informed them that Will had a nightmare, allowing them to record some useful brain activity. Joyce squeezed Jim’s hand, and he knew she regretted not being there.

The doctors all seemed to think that the nightmare proved that trauma caused Will’s episodes. “But what about what happens when he’s awake?” Joyce asked. “That’s not the same thing. All of us, we all have nightmares over what happened. But Will’s the only one having these—these visions or whatever.”

“Those could certainly be caused by trauma, as well,” a doctor explained.

“So what do we do about them?”

“We’ll spend the next three days doing talk therapy and monitoring his brain activity and vitals, in case he has another episode. On Friday, after we’ve gotten results from our tests, we’ll discuss options.”

Joyce sighed. “Does he have to stay overnight again?”

“No, we got what we needed from that.”

That evening, Jim treated the family to dinner and invited them all to his room to watch a movie. Will fell asleep before the movie ended, so they called it a night, and Jim found himself alone, desperate to call El. After an hour of tossing and turning, he heard a knock on his door, so he got up to open it. “Joyce.”

“The boys are asleep and that pullout is so uncomfortable.” Jim snickered, and Joyce hit him in the arm. “Grow up.” She climbed into bed with him once more. “Don’t worry. I’m not staying the whole night. Just for a little bit.”

“Who’s worried?”

“Would you—” She tugged at his shirt, so Jim pulled it off. “Is this weird?” she asked as she settled back into the comfort of his bare skin.

“No.” _Yes? Maybe a little_ , he thought, but didn’t dare say. “Do you do this to every man you sink your hooks into?”

Joyce chafed. “I’ve barely been out with anyone since kicking Lonnie out four years ago. Most men don’t want a crazy single mom.”

“You are not crazy, and I don't want to hear you say it again. I hate it when you call yourself that.”

“O-okay.”

“Really, though. Guy’d have to be stupid to not want you because of your boys. Total idiot.”

Joyce relaxed, running her hands through his chest hair just like she had the previous night, and he could really get used to it if it weren’t for that one glaring problem holding him back. After close to ten minutes, her hand slowed before stopping completely, a faint snore lifting from the back of her throat. He didn't want to wake her, but he knew she couldn’t stay.

“Hey,” Jim nudged Joyce. “Wake up. You should go back to your room.”

“Hm?”

“Your room. Where your boys are.”

“Right.” She stumbled out of bed, sliding her shoes back on. “See you in the morning, Hop.”

“Goodnight.”

By Friday morning, the same routine played itself out, both at the hospital and in the hotel. As they sat, waiting to speak with the doctor, Jim felt conflicted. He couldn’t wait to get back to Hawkins to check on El, but he also knew that this little dance he and Joyce had composed would have to end.

The doctor joined Joyce and Jim, sitting across from them. “Based on our findings, we think that Will is going through a number of issues due to the trauma of last fall. He’s having trouble sleeping, and we think that’s what’s causing the daytime episodes. When he gets to the point where he hasn’t had enough sleep, his brain sort of glitches, and it’s no surprise that what he sees during these episodes involve the trauma that caused the sleep disorder in the first place.”

Jim fidgeted in his seat, and Joyce grabbed his hand to still him.

“Another thing we think might be involved is something called panic disorder. It’s a very new discovery, only in the last few years. Basically, we think his lack of sleep is triggering panic attacks, which means his body reacts as if it is in danger, even though it is not. It can include things like a racing heart, shaking, sweating, or feeling unable to breathe. They’re very short in duration and unpredictable, and they can cause sleepiness or shakiness afterward, which is what you’ve indicated happens to Will.”

“So what’s the answer?” Joyce asked.

The doctor pulled out several different samples of medication. “There are two things I’d like to put him on, including a sedative to help him sleep and an anti-anxiety medication for the panic attacks. Now, I have a few options that we can go over—”

“No!” Jim said, startling both Joyce and the doctor.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re not going to put Will on any sort of drug, especially not for sleep. Come on, Joyce. Let’s go.”

“But—”

He made direct eye contact. “Joyce, listen to me. We will figure it out, but this is not the answer. Trust me on this one.”

Joyce nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Don’t you care about your son?” the doctor called out.

Jim whirled back around, pointing his index finger straight in the man’s face. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’re not gonna pull that guilt trip crap with her. If you had any idea the kind of mother she is—”

Joyce grabbed Jim’s arm and pulled, keeping him from punching the guy. “Come on, Hop. It’s not worth it. Let’s go.” Jim shoved the chair as he turned back around and walked out the door.

“So they can’t help me?” Will asked later over dinner.

“I’m sorry, baby. We’ll keep trying.” She looked at Jim, chewing her lip, and he wished he had a solution for them.

As Joyce curled up next to Jim that night, she let out a heavy sigh. “You okay?” he asked her.

“No. I was thinking, there’s this place in Boston. Another psychiatrist. Maybe—”

“If Chicago is supposed to be the best, what’s Boston going to offer?”

“I don’t know. But we’ve gotta do something.”

“Maybe we go back to the neurologist in Hawkins and ask for a referral. Maybe somewhere closer, like Indy.”

Joyce tilted her head up toward Jim. “Those pills. The ones the doctor had. Were they the same ones they put you on?”

“I don’t think so. That shit’s so strong, I doubt they’d put a kid on it. I just had a bad feeling, you know? Will’s so young. Maybe—Maybe we can figure something else out.”

A long pause ensued before Joyce spoke up again. “Hop, what is this?”

“What’s what?”

“Are we friends?”

“Joyce, of course we’re friends. What kind of question is that?”

She shrugged. “I guess I was just wondering—” A knock sounded on the door. “Shit! Put your shirt on!” she said between her teeth. She bounded out of bed and looked through the peephole. “Jonathan.” She glanced at Jim, making sure he was fully-clothed before she turned back around and opened the door.

“Mom, what are you doing in here?” Jonathan asked as he peered over Joyce’s shoulder, finding Jim on the bed, flipping channels.

“We were just processing the the week. Talking. I wanted to wait until you two fell asleep so you wouldn’t miss me.”

“Okay, fine. But you should’ve mentioned to Will and me that you’d be over here.”

“I thought it might worry him. I’m sorry. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Will’s fine. I just woke up to pee.”

“Okay. We can discuss more later.” She glanced back at Jim. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Goodnight.”

***

Jim knocked the secret knock and waited. Ten seconds later, the door popped open, and he walked into an empty cabin. “El? Where are you?”

“In here.”

Jim walked to El’s room, door cracked open. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

El had bunched herself to one side of the bed, hiding under the covers. Jim sat down on the other end. “Hm, where could El be?”

“I’m right here,” she said.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there under all those blankets.” She didn’t answer. “What’s going on, kid?”

“Too long.”

“Yeah, I know. It was too long to be away from you, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I can’t promise that, but I’ll try my best. I brought you a surprise.” El poked her head out from under the covers as Jim left the room and came back with a box. “A puzzle. Since you finished the last one. It’s the Chicago skyline.”

El looked at him, and Jim could’ve sworn she rolled her eyes. “Skyline?”

“S-k-y, sky. L-i-n-e, line. Skyline. It’s when a bunch of buildings, usually in a big city, can be seen in a line across the sky.” He pointed to the front of the box.

“Thanks.” El tossed the box to the side. “How is Will?”

“He’s okay for now. We still don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna keep going to doctors and get this thing figured out.”

El’s face crumpled. “Gone again.”

“No, this’ll be local.”

“Local?” El asked.

“L-o-c-a-l. Local. Means close by.”

El nodded. “I like local.”

Jim smiled, ruffling El’s hair. “Me too, kid.”

***

“How come the only time I ever see you is when Will needs you?” Joyce asked Jim as they sat in his parked Blazer in the middle school parking lot. School had started back up, and they’d just dropped Will off after an appointment with the Hawkins neurologist.

“I told you, I’m busy. But I agreed to accompany you on these things, so it’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh, so this is just an agreement? You don’t actually want to be here?”

“Shit, Joyce. You’re twisting my words, and you know it.”

“I don’t know what to think. Sometimes, you’re so present, and others, it’s like you’ve fallen off the face of the earth. Are we ever going to talk about the hotel? Are we?”

“What about the hotel?” Jim winced as he said it.

Joyce’s eyes grew wide. “What about—fine. Fine.” She threw her hands in the air. “Just take me back to work.”

“Aren’t we going to talk about the referral?”

“Yeah, and that’s just the icing on the cake of this shitty day.”

“How do you feel about going back to Hawkins Lab?”

“How do you think I feel?” Joyce asked. “I don’t care if this doctor’s new. I don’t trust any of those people in there.”

“Brenner’s gone. This doctor is qualified to work with Will. We can be honest with him about what’s going on.”

“Yeah, well. I still don’t trust them.”

To be truthful, Jim didn’t, either, but he didn’t know what else to do. “Why don’t we go to one appointment. See what this Doctor Owens has to tell us. If you don’t feel comfortable, we leave and don’t go back.”

Joyce chewed her lip. “Fine.”

Two weeks later, in mid-September, Jim met Joyce and Will outside Hawkins National Laboratory. The atmosphere had already changed from the previous year. Before, Jim couldn’t even get past the front gate without sweet talking the guard, but this time, they let him through without any fuss. Scientists milled about, walking casually to and from their cars. Jim took a deep breath and led Joyce and Will into the building.

They’d added a receptionist. Jim knew there’d been one before, once upon a time, but after the Terry Ives incident, Brenner tightened security and disallowed visitors.

“We’re here to see Doctor Owens,” Joyce said. Jim glanced down, noticing her shaking hands.

“Will Byers?” the receptionist asked, looking at the boy, and he nodded. “Right this way.” She led them around the corner and down a hallway, knocking on an office door. A man with salt and pepper hair, early sixties, opened it. “Your ten o’clock is here, sir."

“Thank you, Lottie. Come on in, folks, and have a seat.” Joyce and Will sat in the office chairs across from the doctor’s desk. Jim leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“How are we all today?” Dr. Owens asked. Joyce glanced at Will, but no one really answered. “Tough crowd. Well, I just want to say, first and foremost, that I’m here to do what I can to help. I know about everything that happened last year. I know Will didn’t get lost in the woods. Those responsible for what happened are gone. We have a whole new group of scientists. We’re still doing a lot of the same classified work as before, but without using kids or opening portals to new dimensions.” Owens smiled, waiting for a response, but Jim just scowled. “Okay. So, we’re going to be doing some tests over the next few months, see what we can come up with. I’ve already gone over your chart, but Will, do you think you can explain, in your words, what’s going on?”

After Will finished rehashing what’d happened in the last ten months, Owens nodded, squeezing the stress ball on his desk. “That sounds like a lot for a guy your age to go through. Any age, really.” He turned to Joyce and Jim. “I want to see him back in a month.”

“A month?” Joyce asked. “Isn’t that a bit long?”

“I want to get a good sense of what is happening, and rather than try to trigger an episode in the lab, I think it’d be best for you and Will to keep a journal and write down any episodes or sleep disturbances. As much detail as you can. Bring it with you to the next appointment. And if anything really concerning happens, you can call me earlier.”

“Will there be drugs?” Jim asked.

“Drugs?” Owens asked.

“After this is all done, will you be putting him on medication?”

“It’s not totally out of the question, but I don’t typically like to put kids on medication unless it’s absolutely necessary. Usually, it’s not,” Owens said.

Jim nodded.

“Well, it was nice meeting you folks.” Owens held out his hand to shake each of theirs. “Lottie can set up the appointment. In the meantime, keep that journal.”

“What did you think?” Jim asked as they made their way back to their cars.

“It went okay, I guess,” Joyce said.

“How do you feel about it, Will?” he asked.

“Pretty good.” He shrugged.

“Okay, then. Back in a month.”

***

“Night winds, moaning around corners and whistling through cracks, dashed snow agains the windows of the Mountain View Inn. Inside, a fire crackled in the stone fireplace. The grandfather clock, as old and tired as the inn itself, marked the passing of time with a slow _tick…tock…_ that seemed to say, “Wait…ing, wait…ing.” Jim read _Ralph S. Mouse_ aloud to El.

“What’s moaning?” El asked.

“You know, like a ghost. _Whoooo_! _Whoooo_!”

El’s eyes lit up, and her lips quirked at the corners.

“Your turn to read,” Jim said, handing her the book.

“Ev—ev—”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone in the lobby was waiting—the desk clerk, the hand—handyman, old Matt, who also car—cared—”

“Carried.”

“Carried…I don’t know the next word.”

“Sound it out,” Jim said.

“Gus—gusts—”

“Guests’”

Jim and El continued to read for the next fifteen minutes until dinnertime. Jim got out the ingredients for tuna casserole, having El read the instructions from the cookbook, do the math to measure out the ingredients, and mix them together in the pan. When she slid it in the oven and set the timer, they sat back down to play a game of cribbage.

That night, as Jim tucked El into bed, she asked again about Mike. “Work in progress,” he said. “You gotta be patient. It’ll be soon, though. You still going to see him?”

El nodded. “Yes. He wants to know I am safe.”

“I know, kid. I know. But this is what’s best in the long run. Trust me on that. I’ve gotta keep you safe. Soon enough, everyone will forget, and we’ll figure out a way for you to be a normal kid.”

“Normal,” El said, pursing her lips and glancing toward the ground.

“Yeah, I mean, you are normal. But you know what I mean. Right?”

“Yes.”

The next day, Jim got off work early, stopping into Melvald’s to pick up a few things and say hi to Joyce. He hadn’t spoken with her since the doctor appointment, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t tried to reach out. Donald manned the register, however, and Jim frowned, walking toward the small party section. There, he grabbed a package of party hats and one of balloons. After making small talk with Donald, he drove to Bradley’s Big Buy. Stepping out of his truck, he noticed Joyce’s green Pinto across the parking lot. He never missed it. Jim headed over to say hi, but something stopped him cold. Joyce wasn’t alone, and her passenger had his arm around her, pulling her in close before kissing her. Jim’s instinct told him to go over and deck the guy for making an advance on Joyce, but he quickly realized that she didn’t push him away. She kissed him back. Jim’s throat fell into his stomach where it stayed, a fluttery, sour mess he didn’t want to face. He clenched his fists, willing himself to look away and head into the store.

 _She can date whomever she damn well pleases_ , Jim told himself. He had his chance, and it’s not like he could expect her to wait around. He grabbed the things he needed, throwing them into the cart a bit more forcefully than he might otherwise. When he walked out of the store, Joyce’s car was gone.

On the way home, Jim clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Could he admit to himself that he liked Joyce? That he had feelings for her? Sure. He’d wanted to ask her out at one point, after all. However, he hadn’t quite realized the depth of his feelings until he saw that kiss, and he wanted to shove it all down and far away from where he’d have to deal with it. Instead, he put on a happy face. It was El’s birthday, and she’d officially become a teenager.

“Happy birthday!” Jim called out after she’d unlocked the door remotely. “Come out here. I wanna talk to you.”

El stepped out of her room, glowering.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m bored.”

“Not anymore. I have some surprises, but I want you to go to your room for a few minutes.”

“Then why did you make me come out?”

“Jesus, you’re not messing around with this teenager business, are you? Just shoo. Go.” So El went to her room and shut the door while Jim blew up the bag of balloons and taped them around the cabin. He went outside and came back with El’s present, hiding it. Then, he set out ingredients for dinner and dessert. Finally, he threw on his party hat and called El back out of her room.

El stopped and examined the cabin. “What is this?”

“It’s your birthday party!”

“Don’t parties have more than two people?” she asked.

“Not when we have two people as awesome as these two people.” He placed the other party hat on El’s head and led her into the kitchen. “I got your favorite frozen pizza, which I’ll put in the oven in a minute, and— _and_ —I’m gonna make us a delicious Eggo waffle birthday cake.” El smiled at that. “See, I knew I could get you in the mood. C’mon. Let’s do this.”

Jim put on a record and bumped El’s hip with his own as he started working on the cake. Slicing up strawberries, he combined them with the filling. From there, he layered Eggos, one right on top of the other, using the filling in between each waffle. Finally, he covered the entire outside with frosting and sprinkles, placing a few strawberries and thirteen candles on top for good measure.

After Jim and El shared the pizza, he showed El how to make a wish and blow out her candles. “Don’t tell what the wish is,” he said, but he already knew. He cut a large slice for each of them, topping each with ice cream and fudge. El smiled as she ate, and Jim hoped he’d made up for her lack of birthdays, even if only a little.

“I have one more surprise for you,” he said as he got up out of his seat. “It’s customary to get someone a present on their birthday, so I got you something.” He walked into the living room and came back rolling a Raleigh Super Bomber blue and purple bicycle. “I know you can’t ride it, yet, but you will. Think of it as a promise that you won’t be cooped up in here forever.”

El said nothing as she stood and walked over to the bike, running her hands along the chrome frame. “This is new and apparently very cool, so you’re gonna be the envy of all your fr—” El threw her arms around Jim in a hug.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem, kid. I just wanna make it a good birthday for you. Did I succeed at all?” Jim asked.

“Yes. It was good.” She thought for a moment, then looked back up at Jim. “When is your birthday?”

“Mine’s in January.”

El nodded. “Birthday party.”

“Sure, kid. We can do that if you want.”

Two days later, Jim stopped into Melvald’s on his lunch break. He didn’t have a particular reason to go, only that he knew he’d have to face Joyce eventually, and he didn’t want his screwed up feelings to get in the way of Will’s doctor appointment. “Hey, Joyce,” he said, nodding in her direction.

“Oh, hi, Hop. Haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.” She didn’t even sound mad, anymore. Maybe that’s what he deserved.

“Yeah, I’ve been—”

“—busy. I know. Same.”

“How’s Will?”

“He had an episode last week. Really hard to deal with. We wrote everything down, though, just like Dr. Owens said.”

Jim’s chest ached. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did. You didn’t answer, so I figured you were too busy or whatever.”

“I’m sorry, Joyce.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like he’s your kid or anything.”

For some reason, that stung, and Jim couldn’t quite pinpoint why. “Well, don’t stop calling. I do want to be involved. Really.” They both stood there for an awkward few seconds. “So, I, uh—I heard you’re dating again?”

“Oh. Who’d you hear that from?” Joyce asked.

Jim thought quickly. “Callahan. He saw you with someone at Bradley’s the other day.”

“Yeah. Bob Newby. Remember him? Works at the—”

“—Radio Shack. Right. So, how’d that happen?”

“It’s funny, I went to Will’s school to pick him up, and Bob was there as a presenter for some science program or something. I’m not really sure. Anyway, Will was talking to him, and he and I chatted for a bit and he asked me out for coffee. So I went, and that was, oh, about two weeks ago, and here we are.”

“Here you are.”

“Yeah.” Joyce forced a smile. “Anyway, I should get back to work.”

Jim looked around. “There’s no one here.”

“You should get back to work, then.” She leaned in close. “I hear the old ladies over at the bingo hall have been swiping prizes. Better get on that.” She grinned.

Jim laughed. “I guess I better. If you need anything—anything at all—”

“Call you. I know.”

“I’m serious.”

She smiled. “Okay, Hop. I will.”

***

An asshole. Jim Hopper considered himself one as he wrapped his arm around Joyce and kissed her head, wondering if he’d have another chance with her. _Bob is dead, you asshole_ had been his exact thought. As much as he hurt for Joyce, understood her pain intimately, Jim knew they had a connection, one that didn’t disappear, even as she dated Bob. It’d only been two months since Bob’s death, but Jim well knew after Sara and Diane that no one could put a time limit on grief. It got better, but it never totally went away, and sometimes, finding comfort in someone else brought on healing.

Jim’s life was coming together, piece by piece. Dr. Owens had used his connections to produce a fraudulent birth certificate naming Jim as El’s father. She needed to hide out for several more months, but the story they’d concocted involved El’s mother passing away suddenly and Jim left to care for a daughter he didn’t know about. Based on his history, no one would have a difficult time believing that one. Jim and El had gone through a rough patch, one where they’d both made mistakes. He knew raising a teenager, especially one with her powers, would bring on many more challenges, but he wanted it. All of it. He needed to be part of a family again.

In that moment, Jim held Joyce outside the Snow Ball, feeling her turmoil deeply, while at the same time, hoping for something more between them. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope in a long time, believing it would bring the curse of the black hole. But he couldn’t describe what he had any other way.

Hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. I wasn't even intending on taking it this far, but decided I wanted to write an in-between season 1 and season 2. Gonna make a separate work for it, too, with a few slight adjustments, since I think it can stand on its own easily, and for those who don't feel like reading this whole thing. 
> 
> Decided to skip all the details of S2, and do a forward jump at the end, since if you're reading this, you already know. ;)
> 
> * Side note: I've never gone off drugs, well, not this kind of drug, so I did the best I could with what I found on Google, as we all do.
> 
> * Another side note: I've included El starting her period and Hopper's dealing with it in a few of my stories now, and I promise I'm not a weirdo. Mostly. I'm just really kind of drawn to thinking through how El would deal with it, having (probably) no knowledge of the process and how Hopper would handle it. Because, given her age, it probably happened in between season 1 and 2. I also imagine it would be kind of mortifying for Hopper.
> 
> *Last side note: I'm sure you already know this, but Hopper's going off Tuinal cold turkey is not an endorsement of that choice, only what I felt his character would probably do. Same with the freaking out about Will taking medication. I realize the benefits of medication. I take it myself. But given what Hopper just went through, I imagined him kind of pushing his experiences onto Will.


End file.
